


Titles, Traditions, and Other Forms of Attachment

by MarchofBirds



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin is spoiled, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blatant bastardization of the Clone Wars timeline, Fluff, M/M, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), No underage, Padawan Braids, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 05:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14610654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarchofBirds/pseuds/MarchofBirds
Summary: It was no secret that Anakin had never been the biggest fan of the Jedi Code. There were, however, other customs that he insisted on adhering to- once he got used to them. And, really, what are traditions but codified attachments?Or: How Anakin's relationship to the term "Master" changes throughout different stages of his life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a very simple idea that kind of...spiraled out of control, as they tend to do.  
> So anyway, hopefully someone enjoys my special blend of canon, fanon, and random bullshit I (very lovingly) made up on the spot.

 

The day Obi-Wan first braided Anakin’s hair it had only just grown past his ear, hardly long enough to pull into the bead that held it in place. Through the newly-formed training bond that neither had quite grown accustomed to, Obi-Wan could feel his young apprentice buzzing with pride and excitement. Anakin clearly hadn’t quite grasped the concept of controlling his emotions but when Obi-Wan looked into his face, lit up brighter than Coruscant at night, he couldn’t begrudge him his eagerness. There would be time for him to learn.

“Your journey toward becoming a Jedi begins today, Padawan.” The word his own Master had called him until so recently sat heavy on his tongue; he felt off applying it to this strange young boy so radiant in the Force.

“Thank you Obi-Wan sir,” the boy said shyly, only meeting his eyes fleetingly before returning his gaze to the new braid tucked behind his ear.

“You should call me Master now Anakin.”

“I…yes Master,” Anakin said it quietly, eyes still downcast, but Obi-Wan could feel fear, frustration, even traces of anger seeping through their bond.

“What is it Padawan?” When Anakin didn’t respond, Obi-Wan kneeled down until they could see eye-to-eye and prodded again gently, “You can tell me, what is it that concerns you?”

“It’s just…I thought I won my freedom with the Podrace back on Tatooine. I- I didn’t know I’d be given another master,” his voice broke at that last word and he swiped angrily at the tears that had started to well up in his eyes.

“Oh Anakin I don’t _own_ you: you are my apprentice, not my property.” He paused, searching for the right words to put the boy’s mind at ease. “When you call me Master it is a title of respect, because you are my student. One day, others will call you Master once you have graduated from your apprenticeship and have been Knighted.”

“So I _am_ free?” He asked hesitantly, like he still couldn’t quite believe it.

“Yes Anakin, you belong to yourself now.” Obi-Wan knew, strictly speaking, that that statement wasn’t entirely true. Pledged to the Order as they were, Jedi belonged, first and foremost, to the galaxy at large. But explaining the difference between service and servitude, freedom and duty, to the trembling nine year old before him wasn’t something he felt entirely capable of. He wondered for the first of what would be many, many times what Qui-Gon would’ve done in his place.

Finally he sighed. “I’ll tell you what, until you feel comfortable with the title, you can call me by my first name when there aren’t other Jedi around.” It went a bit against the rules, but when Anakin cracked a smile and finally met his gaze again Obi-Wan figured what the council didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

“Thank you,” Anakin looked around conspiratorially before whispering, “Obi-Wan.”

There would be time for him to learn.

 

* * *

 

 

It didn’t take long for Anakin to settle into his role, only a few months into his apprenticeship he had no problem referring to Obi-Wan by his proper title. He remained an unusual Padawan in most other respects however. Anakin, for all of his talents and all of his tenacity had one enduring flaw. It manifested itself in different ways through the years but all came down to the same thing: Attachment.

 

Early in Anakin’s apprenticeship, before he’d learned to taper his emotions or mastered effective shielding, Obi-Wan returned to their shared quarters to the overwhelming sense of anguish. The boy was undoubtedly crying and, being as strong and untrained in the Force as he was, his pain was emanating out in waves.

Obi-Wan imagined that any sentient in the vicinity who was even remotely Force sensitive would find it rather overwhelming. There wasn’t actually any sound coming from his room so Obi-Wan called out as he approached the closed door, “Anakin? Are you alright?” He knocked softly, waiting for an answer before reaching for the handle.

“Fine Master,” his voice, which had gotten stronger and more confident over the months, was soft and quivering.

“I’m coming in,” he warned, sliding the door open slowly. Anakin was sat cross-legged on his bed, clutching his pillow like a lifeline.

“I didn’t know you’d be back so soon,” he was rubbing furiously at his eyes, which were already red and puffy.

“Can I sit?” Obi-Wan asked, crossing the room in two swift strides.

“Sure,” Anakin shrugged with mock-indifference. He was breathing in the way Obi-Wan had taught him in their meditation sessions- slow in through his nose (as much as he could considering how stuffy it was from his crying), out through his mouth.

Obi-Wan sat on the very edge, giving him plenty of space. “Would you be willing to tell me what’s bothering you?” He asked gently once the boy had had a few seconds to calm himself.

“I…” Anakin hesitated, reaching for his braid the way he tended to do when he was nervous. “It’s my mother. I know I’m not supposed to miss her but I can’t help it.” Of all the conflicting emotions swirling around the boy one made itself known above all the rest: guilt.

“Oh Anakin…I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be separated from someone you were so close to.” Obi-Wan had never known his family, having come to live at the Temple at such a young age. The closest he could come to understanding what it felt like to lose a family member was when his Master had been taken from him- and that had been painful enough. “It’s alright to miss her.” Force knew he still missed Qui-Gon.

“But the Code…”

“It’s true that the Code forbids attachment, but simply denying your feelings is rarely productive.”

“So…what should I do?” He was looking up at him with wide tear-sheened eyes and Obi-Wan wished he had a perfect, definitive answer.

“Well, it’s a little different for everyone. I try to acknowledge my feelings and then release them into the Force through meditation. Sometimes I’ll recite the Code if I’m feeling particularly confounded.” Explaining this, Obi-Wan realized, felt bizarrely like an admission of weakness.

“And that works?” Anakin looked skeptical. His apprentice hadn’t been at the Temple for long and so far had found no love for silent meditation. Obi-Wan remained optimistic that he’d grow into it.

“For me it does.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Why don’t you try telling me about her- your mother. If you’d like. Then we’ll meditate together.”

“Okay, yeah I’d like that.” He brightened for a moment before frowning again, thinking. “Hey Master, how did you know I was upset when you came in?”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I sensed your feelings through our bond.”

“But I never feel any of _your_ emotions. Do you…I mean you do feel things, right?” He sounded genuinely perplexed and Obi-Wan almost laughed.

“I do indeed,” he smiled. “I’ve just learned to put up shields, to stop other Force sensitives from picking up on my thoughts and emotions.”

“Will you teach me to do that?” his student asked eagerly.

“It’s part of your training, yes,” he said reassuringly. Anakin nodded, seeming to be satisfied for the moment. Obi-Wan waited through a short-lived silence, wondering if the boy might need further encouragement to continue the difficult conversation. But then he spoke again, if hesitantly.

“Master…if you need to talk about things, I can listen. You don’t need to shield all the time- I mean if it’d help,” he was a little pink as he stumbled through the words and Obi-Wan felt an unexpected rush of affection. Maybe his Master hadn’t been as mistaken as he’d initially thought: the boy _did_ practically radiate goodness after all.

“Thank you Padawan,” he said warmly. “But for now let’s focus on you. What were you thinking of when I came in?”

 

And so it went on like that for some time. Anakin would come to him when he was particularly distressed and Obi-Wan would refrain from admonishing him for being affected by whatever it was he was feeling. Instead they’d talk it through, recite the Code, and (much to Anakin’s continued displeasure) meditate.

At Anakin’s insistence, Obi-Wan ended up teaching him somewhat advanced shielding techniques earlier rather than was dictated by tradition. He worried, at first, that his Padawan would use his shields to mask his feelings instead of releasing them. Eventually though, he reasoned that Anakin would learn to shield at some point regardless, and there was little harm in teaching him a few years early.

 

He never did take Anakin up on his offer to share his own emotional burdens.

 

* * *

 

 

Obi-Wan had naïvely hoped that, in time, Anakin would absorb the Jedi teachings and become the level-headed Knight he aimed to be. It seemed, though, that Anakin’s predilection toward attachment was as stubborn as the boy himself.

 

It was just shy of Anakin’s eleventh nameday when Obi-Wan had been ordered to bring him before the council to evaluate the progress he’d made in his training. Given the unusual circumstances of his training, in the early days of his apprenticeship Anakin was tested more often than other learners his age. It was undoubtedly his least favorite part of life at the Temple but, on this day at least, he kept an outward veneer of calm. Master Yoda had left earlier in the week on a diplomatic mission that had kept him too busy to even appear in holo form. Thus, the two of them were at least spared from his silent judgmental stare while Anakin demonstrated his most recent forms, mastery of the Force, and knowledge of Jedi history. Master Windu, unfortunately, was not similarly absent.

“Control still needs work,” he said, voice flat, one eyebrow raised. “There’s more to being a Jedi than sheer power.” Silently, Obi-Wan begged Anakin not to come back with a cheeky ‘ _So you’re saying I’m powerful?_ ’ As he undoubtedly would’ve if it’d been Obi-Wan giving the criticism. Thankfully, he only gave a courteous bow of his head in acknowledgement. He would’ve almost been fooled into thinking he’d had a perfectly behaved Padawan, could he not feel the minute tendrils of irritation seeping through Anakin’s shields.

“However, your forms have shown marked improvement- you’ve learned an impressive amount in such a short time,” Plo Koon cut in. Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the small smile of gratitude that spread across his face, before smoothing his expression back into its previous respectfully blank state.

“Thank you Master,” Anakin said, bowing slightly lower than he had for Mace.

After they’d been dismissed, Master Mundi’s voice called out from behind “A moment please, Master Kenobi.”

“Go ahead Anakin; I’ll meet you in our quarters,” he said, keeping his voice level despite the knot growing in his stomach.

“Yes Master,” Anakin didn’t hide his unease nearly as well, but left without another word. Obi-Wan took a deep breath before turning around, trying to quell his anxiety. There really was no need for it; despite Mace’s criticisms Anakin had done quite well.

The second the door closed behind him Mace said, in his usual blunt way, “You’re too soft on him.”

Obi-Wan wanted to defend himself, wanted to defend Anakin. Hadn’t his student’s rapid improvement _proved_ that his teachings had been working? But that wasn’t what they wanted to hear, and if the matter were still up for debate they wouldn’t be lecturing him, so he held his tongue.

“The boy doesn’t take criticism well,” Master Tinn cut in, speaking up for the first time. “And we fear he has not relinquished his attachment to his mother. Rather he seems to have redirected that weakness toward _you_.”

His tone sounded distinctly accusatory to Obi-Wan’s ears and, again, he wanted to argue. In this case, however, they weren’t entirely wrong. While he hadn’t- would never, didn’t want to- replace Anakin’s mother, he was aware that they’d built an uncommonly strong bond over the two years since he’d taken over his training. Yet again, he wondered what advice his own Master would have to give on the subject, whether he’d view it as a weakness as the council did.

“Respectfully Masters, so much of Anakin’s teaching is one-on-one it would be difficult for him not to develop _some_ attachment, given that he’s so isolated from his peers.”

The council chattered among themselves for a moment before Mace spoke again, “We’ll bring the matter up with Master Yoda when he returns, and let you know then what we’ve decided.”

“Thank you I’ll…try to do better with him,” Obi-Wan bowed, feeling slightly hopeful, if not quite relieved.

“And Obi-Wan? Make sure your Padawan’s bad habits aren’t rubbing off on you: we’re only telling you all this to keep him on the right path,” Mace continued, looking him in the eye as he rose.

“Of course.” And from the sudden unexpected flare of irritation he felt in his gut, he thought that maybe they weren’t entirely wrong on that front either. When _was_ the last time he’d spoken up in the face of criticism from the council?

 

Later that evening over a dinner Anakin seemed only half-interested in eating, he asked, “Master, in front of the council, did I disappoint you?” voice unusually timid.

“No Anakin, of course there’s still room for improvement,” Anakin frowned at that and Obi-Wan could feel the frustration swirling around him. “But you performed admirably, especially considering how short a time you’ve been training,” he added.

 “So when they called you back it _wasn’t_ to tell you how bad I did?”

“No, no not at all. They were just concerned that perhaps your education isn’t as…varied as it should be, given that I’ve overseen almost all of it myself.”

“What do you mean?” Anakin asked, sounding lost.

“Well, how would you feel about spending some of your time training with other Padawan learners?”

Anakin frowned again, biting his lip before answering. “You’d still be my Master though, right?”

“Yes, yes Anakin of course. Nothing’s been decided but you’d probably just take a few classes alongside others near your age,” he said soothingly, hoping to alleviate the boy’s obvious concern.

“I…guess that’d be alright then.” He was still looking down at his plate, conflict still heavy around him.

It wasn’t exactly the reaction Obi-Wan had been anticipating when he’d suggested it. As close as Masters and Padawan tended to grow over the years, most learners Anakin’s age weren’t generally eager to spend all their time with dull old Knights. Obi-Wan certainly hadn’t been at that age. But again, it seemed The Chosen One was nothing any of them had been equipped for.

“I’m guessing I don’t actually have much choice though do I?” Anakin asked, breaking him from his brief reverie.

“Well…no probably not,” Obi-Wan admitted with a wry laugh.

“Figured,” he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling again at least.

 

* * *

 

 

Soon after that, Anakin began training alongside his fellow Padawan twice a week. Initially he’d worried that Anakin, having started his training so late, would have a hard time matching the others’ skills. It turned out Obi-Wan was, in some respects, right about his apprentice’s progress. Anakin never did quite catch up to his peers as much as he utterly surpassed them. More talented in the Force than anyone Obi-Wan had ever encountered and desperate to prove himself, Anakin faced every task with a level of fervency so passionate, it bordered on aggression. Consequently, he tended to struggle with the quieter aspects of life in the Temple. The search for tranquility and balance often eluded and frustrated his fiery charge.

 Still though, it wasn’t long before he was outperforming learners nearly twice his age. This, of course, did nothing to win him any friends among the other students. His shortcomings, few and far between as they were, didn’t seem to be enough to offset the resentment that built up in his fellow students. Obi-Wan figured that kind of isolation would’ve bothered any one of the other children at the temple. But for Anakin who’d grown up surrounded by friends his own age and was suddenly thrust into a new and challenging environment, well—

 

A few months after Anakin turned twelve, Obi-Wan was in the middle of his afternoon meditation session when he heard the front door to the apartment slam shut. And if he’d somehow missed that, the frustration and shame swirling through the Force was unmistakable. He sighed, giving up on finding any sort of tranquility for the moment, and rose to meet his distraught Padawan.

“Anakin?” He called out, making his way down the hall into their shared living space. “What’s wro-”

“I don’t want to train with the other students Master,” he spat, pacing the floor. “They’re- they’re all kriffing idiots.”

“Language, Padawan,” Obi-Wan sighed: this clearly wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. “Sit down, tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to sit,” he shook his head and, yeah, considering all the negative energy churning around him it wasn’t a surprise he felt the need to keep moving.

“Fine, but talk.”

“I guess I…got in a fight with one of the other students. He…he said I was a _slave_ to my emotions. He used that word- slave. They don’t know do they? The rest of the temple, about my- about where I was before Master Qui-Gon found me.”

“No, Anakin. No one else but the council knows,” Obi-Wan said gently, wondering if there was a chance they’d told the other Knights without him knowing. “It’s a common enough turn of phrase- I’m sure the boy didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Like hells he didn’t! He was _trying_ to rile me up.”

“That may very well be, but do you think it was wise to play into his hand, let him get to you?”

“Well I-” Anakin flushed then, shame instantly replacing indignation. “I didn’t think. I just got so angry,” he confessed.

“What happened?” Obi-Wan asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“I might’ve…I hit him. A few times.” His voice, which had been so loud a moment earlier was small and barely audible.

“ _Anakin_ , is the other boy alright?”

“He’s fine Master, someone- a Knight- pulled us apart. Sent me back here.”

“Ah, I was wondering why you were back so early,” Obi-Wan massaged his temples. “Who was it that separated you?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was so focused on- well. I’m sorry Master. I didn’t mean to lose control like that.” Sapped of his earlier anger, he finally sat on the couch, resting his head in his hands.

“You’ll have to apologize to the boy you hurt,” Obi-Wan said, sitting down next to him. “And the Knight who separated you. And probably the council.”

Anakin groaned but nodded, not lifting his face from his palms. “Alright.”

Obi-Wan sighed, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. He could still feel the boy’s misery coming off him in waves. “Have you had trouble like this before, with the other students?”

“A little,” he admitted guiltily, finally lifting his face out of his hands.

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Obi-Wan asked, mentally filing through all the interactions they’d had since he’d begun training with the other Padawan, wondering if there’d been signs of trouble before that he’d ignored.

“Well…I didn’t know if it would matter. It’s not like I had much of a choice before y’know? The council tends to get what they want. And I guess I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

“Oh, Anakin I’m sorry,” he felt a fair amount of guilt himself, then. His training with the other students _had_ been Obi-Wan’s idea after all. “Please know that you can come to me with anything. It isn’t a bother; I want to help you whenever I can.”

“Thanks Master, I’ll remember that,” he said, still sounding slightly morose.

“You’re not hurt are you?” Obi-Wan asked, internally chastising himself for not asking sooner.

The slightest smirk passed over Anakin’s features at that, “Not a scratch. I used the block you taught me last week- worked perfectly. They’re just jealous you know? Because I can beat every one of them in sparring.”

Obi-Wan knew he should admonish his Padawan then, encourage humility, but instead he said, “Can you really?”

“Yeah! I’ve gotten better since you last sparred with me Master. I haven’t lost in _months_.” To his credit, he sounded more excited than smug. Obi-Wan could hardly fault him for relishing in his accomplishment when he felt just as proud, if not of his brawling then at least of his skill.

“Well, maybe you won’t be training with them much longer then anyway.”

“Yeah?” He asked, brightening.

“ _Maybe_ \- I’ll speak with the council.” Obi-Wan wondered then if Anakin had spent enough time with the other Padawan to improve his socialization skills or break him of his attachment problem. Judging from the conversation they were having, he doubted it.

“Thank you Master,” he said, grinning genuinely, the bad mood he’d walked in with finally having evaporated. And it really did seem impossible some days, Obi-Wan thought, not to give the boy whatever he wanted.

 

His meeting with the council went about as well as Obi-Wan had expected. That is, somewhere along the lines of “First you specially requested this training, now you’ve changed your mind?” and “Chosen One or not, this Temple doesn’t _actually_ revolve around your student.” –But that’s paraphrasing, really. It probably wasn’t that harsh in reality, though at the time it certainly felt that way to Obi-Wan.

In the end, Anakin continued training with the other students on a regular basis for a few more months before tapering off into weekly, then monthly sessions. Eventually they stopped altogether, and by that point just about everyone involved- students and teachers alike- were quite relieved.

 

* * *

 

 

Obi-Wan had long been anticipating his student’s teenage years with some amount of trepidation. Being one of the younger Knights himself, he didn’t have much in the way of experience guiding students but he remembered his own behavior during his teen years with no small amount of shame. Anakin was rapidly reaching the age he’d been when he had started to crave independence- act out, demand more time with his peers and less on tedious missions with his Master. And from what he understood, he was actually more well-behaved than most that age. As fond as Obi-Wan had grown of his young charge, he’d be the first to admit that Anakin could be difficult to say the least. So he wasn’t exactly looking forward to the new challenges he was sure his Padawan’s teen years would bring.

As ever though, Anakin was nothing he’d ever been prepared for. Granted, in some ways, he did become more demanding. His demands just tended to lean toward more attention, more validation of his skills- _more_ in all the areas Obi-Wan had been prepared to give less.

 

Anakin was fourteen and Obi-Wan had been called away on a mission with enough potential for danger that he’d elected to leave Anakin behind at the Temple to continue his training. Evidently, this was not what his student wanted to hear. He was sat at their dining table, arms crossed and frown heavy on his face.

“Anakin, I’ll be back in two weeks or less,” he repeated for what must’ve been the fourth time.

“That’s what you said last time-”

“You were with me on the last mission,” he reminded him exasperatedly. Obi-Wan just couldn’t understand his reaction. When he’d been Anakin’s age he looked forward to the missions his Master would go on without him. Qui-Gon had been a spectacular mentor, but at that age there were few things more instantly rewarding than getting to spend time with other’s your age without a guardian looking over your shoulder. Anakin though, couldn’t seem to agree less.

“Yeah well, the last one that I wasn’t with you then. You said it wouldn’t take long but you were gone for six weeks- six! And when you finally _did_ come back you had to spend three whole days with the healers.”

“I know Anakin, I remember.” He distinctly remembered Anakin hovering around him for weeks afterward as if he was afraid Obi-Wan would disappear as soon as he looked the other way. “Sometimes things do happen that are out of my control.”

“Well if I’d been there maybe I could’ve been watching your back.” He replied automatically; they’d had this argument a half dozen times already.

“The council thinks-”

“Oh the _council_ thinks-” Anakin muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

“The council thinks you’re too young and inexperienced for this particular mission and I agree with them,” Obi-Wan continued, talking over his Padawan’s grumbling.

“Fine, whatever. But if you get killed don’t blame me,” he snapped, rising to storm off. Anakin put up an impressive show of anger but Obi-Wan could feel his worry seeping through their bond.

Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Anakin, I’ll be alright. I’ll be back before you know it.” His suddenly gentle tone after all their squabbling caught Anakin by surprise and his anger left him all at once. He threw his arms around his Master, burying his face in his shoulder. He tensed for a moment before returning the embrace a bit awkwardly; it’d been some time since the boy was so tactile, and that sort of thing had never come naturally to Obi-Wan.

“You better,” he sniffled, voice muffled by Obi-Wan’s robes.

“I will. You’ll see, it’ll be fine.”

 

When he came back just under a month later with a broken leg, Anakin’s emotional state vacillated between furious and relieved so often Obi-Wan swore it was giving him whiplash. Even after his leg healed, the boy stuck so close to his side he wondered if _he_ wasn’t going to be the one demanding more freedom before his Padawan reached Knighthood.

 

* * *

 

 

Over the years, Obi-Wan had been warned on more than a few occasions by the council, even by other Knights, not to dote on his Padawan, not to encourage his obvious attachment. He hadn’t worried about it much at first. Anakin would make connections among his fellow Padawan learners, absorb the Code and that’d be that.

When that hadn’t played out the way he’d expected, well. He tried, for a while, to put distance between the two of them. But what was he supposed to do- not spend extra hours training with him when he requested it? Lie and say he wasn’t one of the best young Jedi the Order had ever churned out when he asked for reassurance? No one at the Temple, least of all Obi-Wan himself, had been prepared for a student quite like Anakin. But he couldn’t _not_ encourage his obvious growing potential just because the boy had responded a bit differently to life as a Jedi.

 

Anakin was sixteen and had asked, for the third time that week, if they could spend extra time sparring together. It was less of a polite request and more of a base expectation between them at that point, but Obi-Wan appreciated the show of respect regardless.

“Wouldn’t you rather spar with another Padawan?” He asked as they passed a few pairs of teenage apprentices locked in friendly combat. Anakin looked at him like he’d suggested he give up on Knighthood and take up a career in Bantha farming instead.

“Haven’t we been through this? When have you ever known me to willingly seek out another Padawan to train with?” He asked incredulously. And, okay, maybe the council did have a point about them spending too much time together.

“Well that’s just it- the experience might be good for you,” Obi-Wan shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

“Oh c’mon I already tried that. You know I could wipe the floor with any of them,” he said, gesturing toward the other teenagers.

Well, it wasn’t like he was _wrong_ exactly. He was better than anyone his age- better even than many of the actual Knights. But that wasn’t the point. Obi-Wan geared up to at least chide him about his lack of humility when-

“Why, you tired of me?” Anakin asked. His tone was light, joking, but he was looking down at his feet as they walked. Obi-Wan could feel a spike of, not quite fear, but something unpleasant in their bond before Anakin quickly quashed it.

“Of course not.” He said not too quickly, trying to convey gentle reassurance. “But facing off against other styles will make you a more well-rounded fighter.”

Anakin did make eye contact then- a searching glance that seemed to be looking for any hint at deception. Obi-Wan figured he must not have found any, because after a moment the brightness returned to both his expression and Force signature.

“You’re right Master. My apologies- I’ll try to branch out more from now on.” He was smiling again and, easiness between them restored, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but return the expression.

 

* * *

 

 

As a general rule, Anakin was so prone to abrupt and dramatic change that more subtle trends tended to go unnoticed until their outcomes were impossible to ignore. Before Obi-Wan knew it, his Padawan had just about made it through his prickly teen years and was settling quite well into young adulthood. His skills as a Knight were coming along so well that Obi-Wan would be just about ready to declare that there was no more for him to teach the boy if it weren’t for his continued impetuousness. Still though, internally, Obi-Wan began preparing himself for the day Anakin would graduate from his apprenticeship and become a fully fledged Knight.

                                                   

A week and a half had passed since Anakin’s nineteenth nameday and his Force signature was presently brimming with so much pride Obi-Wan wouldn’t have even needed their bond to feel it. As it was, the feeling was practically smacking him in the face with all of its subtlety. They’d just finished another successful mission wherein Anakin had done so well he’d received unanimous praise from the council. Even Master Windu, though begrudgingly, had agreed that his performance had been impressive.

They were back in their shared quarters standing face-to-face. Obi-Wan was adding another bead to Anakin’s braid while his apprentice loomed over him, still beaming. And when exactly had Anakin gotten taller than him anyway, he wondered idly.

One quirk from his childhood that had remained was Anakin’s fascination with his Padawan braid. Obi-Wan often noticed him running a hand over it, absentmindedly twisting it around his fingers as it grew longer over the years. He’d occasionally catch sight of it in a passing reflection when he thought he wasn’t being watched, and Obi-Wan would catch a trace of the self-satisfaction emanating off of him. It was distinctly un-Jedi like but, like in so many other areas, he indulged him. Even the masters were allowed a bit of leeway now and again, and the warm rush of pride presently traveling through their bond was mutual- even if Obi-Wan didn’t acknowledge it out loud.

“Thank you Master,” Anakin said, voice surprisingly soft for all the excitement buzzing through the Force. Smiling, Obi-Wan looked up to reply but, seemingly out of nowhere, there was a hand holding his chin and another on the back of his neck. And then suddenly, they were kissing. And- and when _had_ Anakin gotten so much taller than him?

Before Obi-Wan could think _I’ve got a bad feeling about this_ , he’d wrapped his arms around Anakin’s waist, kissing him back fervently. Anakin let out a surprised moan, deepening the kiss and walking them backward. The feeling of the back of his thighs hitting the couch seemed to be the cue Obi-Wan’s mind needed to turn back online; he grasped Anakin by the shoulders, pulling him away. They were both breathing hard and, from the way their Force signatures were intertwined, Obi-Wan couldn’t tell where his arousal ended and Anakin’s began. How long had he been suppressing _that_ particular desire? How long had Anakin? There wasn’t any time to consider any this however, as his clever Padawan had already swatted Obi-Wan’s hands out of the way, pushing him backward onto the couch.

“Anak-” Obi-Wan’s protest trailed off into a decidedly unmasterly keen when Anakin sucked at a spot just under his jaw. His hands worked their way under Obi-Wan’s robes, touching every inch of skin he could find. When Anakin pulled back enough to go for his master’s belt, Obi-Wan finally found the presence of mind to grab his hands, stilling them.

“Anakin, Anakin stop,” he commanded breathlessly.

“But Mas-” he started to whine before seeming to think better of it, taking a deep controlling breath, and starting again. He rocked back on his feet to sit on the floor on his knees between Obi-Wan’s thighs. “Why, Master? I want it, and I know you want it,” he was trying his hardest to sound measured and thoughtful but their bond betrayed his desperation.

“This is a blatant disregard for the Code-”

“You don’t need to bring the Code into this. I- I know we can’t have a _relationship_ but the code forbids attachment, not sex.” Anakin was positively pouting at that point, which, while adorable, was doing nothing to convince Obi-Wan that this was a good idea.

“Yes, but one tends to lead to the other.”

“Master you can’t tell me you’ve never had sex.” Anakin raised an eyebrow at him skeptically.

“Well no, I mean, I have,” Obi-Wan sputtered, wondering how he’d lost control of the situation yet again.

“So what’s the difference?” He asked petulantly, leaning his cheek against his master’s knee.

“The difference is that you are my Padawan; it’s my job to take care of you.”

“So _take care of me_ ,” Anakin said lowly, kissing up his thigh. “Or I could take care of you.”

“Stop that, Padawan you’re just con-”

“If you say ‘confused’ I swear I’ll bite you,” Anakin warned, mouth poised over his sensitive inner thigh, waiting. “I know what I want,” he continued when Obi-Wan’s retort died in his throat. “I’ve wanted it for a long time. And I know what you want too,” he said, looking up to meet his gaze.

“And how do you know that?” Obi-Wan asked, heart pounding so hard he was sure Anakin would be able to hear it even if he didn’t have their Force bond to tell him how wound up the exchange had left him.  

“Because you haven’t pushed me off of you yet,” he grinned wickedly, lowering his mouth back down. Obi-Wan huffed and pushed halfheartedly at Anakin’s shoulders; his apprentice went back easy, laughing. “Well now you’re just doing it to make a point.”

“Maybe so,” Obi-Wan admitted, trying not to grin. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not a point worth making.”

“Master that was too many double-negatives and there isn’t enough blood left in my brain to parse out whatever it is you’re trying to say.” He let his shoulders sag, forehead dropping once again to rest on the other man’s knee, defeated.

“That’s exactly my point- you need to think this through.” Obi-Wan pulled Anakin up off the floor to sit beside him.

“And how long do I have to do that?”

“Longer than tonight.”

“But you’re not saying no?” Anakin looked at him, a small hopeful grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I’m saying that I think this is a bad idea and you should really think through your actions for once in your life.”

“But you’re not saying no,” he repeated, voice wavering. There was something slightly nervous in his tone- something the older Jedi suspected had been present all along that he’d kept well-suppressed so far.

Obi-Wan sighed long-sufferingly. If he could clear his mind for more than a few moments he was sure he could come up with half a dozen arguments as to why this was such a bad idea. He could just _hear_ the council member’s voices in his head warning him- repeatedly- not to coddle his apprentice. To train him with a firmer hand, to put more distance between them. He looked up to meet Anakin’s eyes. They were wide, beseeching. He had reached up at some point and started fiddling with the end of his braid nervously.

“No, I suppose I’m not.” The glee that passed through their bond in that moment was almost physically palpable.

“That’s good enough for now,” he said, grabbing Obi-Wan’s face between his hands and kissing him again. Before he could react, Anakin was already standing, leaving him on the couch, dazed and more than a little aroused. 

He threw his head back on the cushions behind him with a groan, wondering what had just happened- and whether he’d been as troublesome a Padawan as Anakin was proving to be.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, getting into a bit of smut in this chapter- so I was a teensy bit nervous writing it but here we go

 

 

Anakin allowed weeks, _weeks_ to pass as if nothing had happened between the two of them. Oh sure, he’d almost obsessively run his fingers over the newly-acquired bead on his braid, or raise an eyebrow knowingly whenever Obi-Wan’s eyes lingered on his mouth a few seconds too long. But beyond that, it was as if nothing had changed. Obi-Wan had halfway convinced himself that Anakin had changed his mind, and promptly started down the path of repressing the entire event. But of course he should’ve known his stubborn Padawan better than that.

 

It was late in the evening as Obi-Wan made his way down the mostly-deserted halls of the temple. Since the start of the war the entire place had felt emptier than he could ever remember it being. They’d just wrapped up a long, painfully tedious council meeting that had left him utterly drained. It had been over ten years since his own Knighting ceremony, but days like this one had a way of making him feel too small for his robes.

Obi-Wan slid open the door to the apartment he shared with Anakin, expecting to find the room darkened and quiet. Instead he was greeted with the warm smell of something cooking wafting out of the kitchen and the light from the dining area spilling out into the living room. “Anakin?” he called out, following the sound of movement coming from the kitchen.

“Master, you’re back!” Anakin’s cheeks were lightly flushed from the heat coming off the stove, but his smile was genuine.

“You cooked? I didn’t forget to warn you I’d be back late did I?” Obi-Wan asked, suddenly concerned that Anakin had been expecting him much earlier.

“No, no you remembered. I just thought you’d be so tired after the council meeting that you’d go straight to bed if there wasn’t someone here to feed you.”

“I don’t- I mean thank you,” Obi-Wan sputtered, unable to decide whether to be grateful or insulted at the implication that he couldn’t take care of himself. “But how did-”

“I felt your distress through our bond. And how hungry you were- go sit down,” Anakin said, ushering him out into the dining area. Unable to think of an argument, Obi-Wan shrugged and followed his Padawan’s instructions. It was curious though. Master-Padawan training bonds were quite strong, stronger still if the pair in question was particularly close but he couldn’t ever remember being quite _that_ sensitive to his own master’s emotional state. He chalked it up to Anakin’s being unprecedentedly strong in the Force.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” he called out, struggling to recall a single other occasion his apprentice had spent any length of time in the kitchen.

“Well, it’s not much,” Anakin admitted a little self-consciously, carrying two serving plates into the dining area. “Pretty much the simplest recipe I could find on the Holonet that I could make from what we had here.”

One plate looked to be a mix of roasted vegetables with some kind of meat, and the other was piled with sliced instant-bread. Anakin wasn’t lying; it was a near foolproof meal. Still, the effort warmed him more than he was willing to admit- though he had no doubt that Anakin could feel his affection through their bond regardless.

“Wait!” Anakin stopped him when he went to serve himself. “Let me get one more thing first.” He skittered off into the kitchen again before Obi-Wan could get a single word out in question.  There was some shuffling, clinking, and then a loud _pop_ before he reappeared not two minutes later holding two glasses and a bottle of some sort of blue wine Obi-Wan definitely didn’t remember buying.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, surprised.

“The store,” he busied himself pouring the glasses rather than making eye contact with his Master.

“And _how_ , exactly, did you persuade them to sell it to you?”

“Well I definitely didn’t use the Force to convince the shopkeeper that I’d left my identification at home and it’d be great if he could just let me buy it, that’s for sure.”

“Anakin! How many times do I have to warn you about irresponsible use-”

“Shh Master, you can lecture me later okay? For now just relax,” he set a glass of wine in front of him with a hopeful expression. Obi-Wan sighed and relented, taking a tentative sip.

“Don’t think I won’t be bringing this up later,” he said sharply- one last effort at sternness for the night. “But I suppose I should also thank you.” Anakin _was_ being considerate after all, in his own willful way.

“You’re welcome Master,” he said, preening just slightly. He took a long pull from his own glass, “Go ahead, dig in.” The food was better than Obi-Wan had expected and the wine left him feeling warm and relaxed, a nice change from the tension that he’d been holding since the meeting with the council began.

“So I was wondering,” Anakin started, setting his silverware down and twisting the stem of his glass between his fingers. “About what you said before, has it been long enough?”

“Long enough for what?” Obi-Wan asked, knowing full well what he was getting at.

“Long enough for me to have thought through what I want. You didn’t think I’d changed my mind did you?”

“Well I…” that was, in fact, exactly what he’d thought.

“Because I haven’t. I want you: a few weeks isn’t gonna change that.”

“Did you plan this- the food, the wine- in order to…to _seduce_ me?” Obi-Wan didn’t know how to feel about the concept. On the one hand it was ridiculous, on the other it was absolutely something Anakin would do.

“No! Well, maybe a little. I really did feel how stressed you were though,” he was blushing furiously, stealing furtive glances up through his eyelashes, trying to gauge Obi-Wan’s response. It was almost painfully endearing.

“I appreciate the sentiment Padawan, I just don’t want to take advantage of your youth and inexperience.”

“I’m not a child anymore- I’m almost twenty for Force sake, and not completely inexperienced you know,” he was using just about every ounce of his training not to sound petulant.

“Oh no?” He asked, trying to keep his tone nonchalant.

“Did you think I was a virgin?” The grin spreading across Anakin’s face was just a touch too wicked for a Jedi-in-training, in Obi-Wan’s opinion.

“I might’ve assumed…” His apprentice always did have a way of stirring up conflicting emotions in the otherwise dignified Knight. He wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved that he wasn’t somehow corrupting Anakin, or concerned about what he might’ve gotten up to in his free time.

“Well you don’t need to worry about that,” he said, most of his timidity from the moment earlier having instantly evaporated.

“I still have other concerns,” Obi-Wan insisted, resisting the urge to ask him exactly how much experience he’d acquired. It might’ve bothered him a touch more than it should have that Anakin hadn’t confided in him already.

“Like what?”

“You’re my student,” he knew he was repeating himself but the point still stood.

“So? It’s not unheard of. You and Master Qui-Gon never-”

“Absolutely not!” Obi-Wan could feel his cheeks burning; he couldn’t believe Anakin would even suggest such a thing. Not that he’d never _thought_ about it, but that was beside the point.

“Okay, sorry,” he said, putting his hands up in a show of mock-surrender. “It just seemed like you two were really close.”

“Not that close,” he mumbled irritably.

Anakin sighed; this was not going at all how he’d hoped. “Come on Master where’s the harm in it? Unless you really don’t want to.” The insecurity from earlier bled back into his voice and Obi-Wan cursed himself a hundred times over for not being sterner with him over the years. Where was the harm? Obi-Wan could foresee plenty of ways the arrangement he was proposing could end in disaster. And yet-

“We’d have to go slow,” he took another gulp of wine, hardly able to believe what he was saying. “Very slow.”

“Of course! We’ll go as slow as you want; I can be patient.” Experience had planted some rather large seeds of doubt as to the truthfulness of that statement in Obi-Wan’s mind. But Anakin’s Force signature was glowing so brightly it almost hurt to look at and he felt his heart ache a little at the sight. Despite all of his misgivings, Obi-Wan felt his resolve crumble.

“I…alright we can try.” Almost before he’d finished speaking, Anakin had darted around the table, crowding into Obi-Wan’s space. He kissed him eagerly, arms looped over his shoulders and around the back of the chair. By the time Obi-Wan managed to break away for air he was most of the way into his lap and still moving closer. “Slow Anakin, slow,” he reminded him with a steady hand on his shoulder.

“It’s just kissing, how much slower do you want to go?” He pouted.

“Don’t make me regret this before it’s even gone anywhere,” he warned his apprentice pointedly.

“Alright, alright don’t get upset,” Anakin huffed, moving off of him. He couldn’t be too disappointed though, not really. He _was_ getting what he wanted after all, just not as fast as he’d hoped. “How about you go relax in the living room and I’ll clean up the kitchen?”

“It’s been an exceedingly long day, I was just going to call it a night.”

“Oh, okay then.” His face fell and it wasn’t just for effect; Obi-Wan could feel his disappointment through their bond.

“I guess I could stay up a little while longer,” he conceded almost immediately.

“Really? Great, take this,” he pushed the mostly-full bottle of wine into one hand and his mostly-empty glass into the other. “And I’ll be there in a second.”

Obi-Wan had barely had enough time to settle in on the couch and take a sip of wine before Anakin came hurrying in after him. The three or so minutes between definitely hadn’t been enough time to properly clean the kitchen but Obi-Wan decided not to press him on it- the boy had cooked dinner after all. Anakin refilled both of their glasses before sitting down next to him on the couch, much closer than he normally would have. “So, just how awful was that council meeting?”

 

They sat together talking and, other than the wine and proximity, it didn’t feel terribly different than any other night. Even the _longing_ Obi-Wan felt lingering in their bond he recognized as something that’d been an undercurrent in his apprentice’s Force signature for quite some time. It’d been so subtle before, so slow-growing, that- like most of the gradual changes regarding Anakin- he’d hardly noticed it until tonight. After a little while even that didn’t feel particularly unfamiliar.

But then, perhaps emboldened by the wine or his Master’s continued presence, Anakin leaned in and kissed him again, this time much more gently. When he wasn’t immediately rebuffed, he plucked the glass out of Obi-Wan’s fingers and deposited it on the sitting table before turning back toward him. Obi-Wan could feel him probing at their bond, looking for any hint of wariness or uncertainty. He took a deep breath, willing himself to relax; Anakin was being good, playing by the rules and that deserved reciprocation if nothing else. And besides, his Padawan hadn’t been wrong; it wasn’t like part of him didn’t want to.

Obi-Wan brought his fingers to the sides of Anakin’s neck, pulling him in slowly, softly. The warmth pouring off of him into the Force was almost too much but he continued on regardless, tracing a thumb over his cheekbone, bringing their lips together in a barely-there kiss. The hands that grazed his sides in turn were soft, hesitant, almost trembling. Obi-Wan could practically hear the _slowly, slowly_ thrumming through the Force as Anakin made every effort to let his Master set the pace.

He dug his fingers through his close-shorn hair, scratching his neatly-kept nails into Anakin’s scalp. When Obi-Wan swept over the braid, tugging with just enough pressure to be felt, he tried not to revel too much in the shiver that rippled across Anakin’s skin and through their bond. Holding such power over his apprentice’s reactions shouldn’t have brought him so much satisfaction and yet—

As soon as Anakin got too eager- deepened the kiss too fast, started to push them down into the cushions- Obi-Wan would pull back. With hands on the younger man’s chest, or tracing along his jawline, he’d wait until he’d calmed down enough to continue. It only took a few tries before Anakin understood: to get what he craved, he’d have to wait until it was offered. Anakin wasn’t quite used to not getting what he wanted out of his Master, and wondered over how much he found he enjoyed being made to wait.

 

They stayed up for hours that first night, alternating between talking and kissing. Much to Anakin’s disappointment, it didn’t get any further than a well-placed bruise to the juncture between his neck and shoulder and a few stray hands under his Master’s tunic before Obi-Wan insisted on calling it a night. 

Anakin was sure that Obi-Wan knew how much he was affecting him: his smugness was just as distinct in the Force as he knew his own desperation must be. But he wouldn’t push, wouldn’t beg. He would be patient, show his Master how mature, how patient he could be. And if he forgot to take particular care to keep his shields up when dealing with the frustration that’d been building all evening, well, that was Obi-Wan’s fault anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

Things continued on like that for months. Not every night, but when there was time: in between missions, when they were both at the temple at the same time. It was slow, slower even than either of them had really anticipated. But Anakin learned; the less he took, the more he was given. Obi-Wan knew just how much Anakin could stand, and he’d walk him right up to the precipice of his self-control before drawing back- over and over. Privately, he mused over the unorthodox way he’d finally found to get his Padawan to cooperate with him. Tried, and failed, not to wonder what that said about him as a mentor.

Every time Obi-Wan gave Anakin more- a little more contact, a little less clothing- he soaked up the younger man’s reactions. He’d always known that Anakin was, in so many ways, everything he wasn’t: impulsive, demonstrative, expressive, demanding. They often made his path toward becoming a Jedi, and therefore Obi-Wan’s in leading him there, somewhat of an uphill battle. As a lover however, his proclivity toward spontaneous expressions of affection and heat were nothing short of thrilling.

 

Of course it was in Obi-Wan’s nature to worry and as such he couldn’t help but feel like something was about to go terribly wrong. Even if what they were doing wasn’t explicitly forbidden, it still seemed like a good deal of rule-bending more than he was comfortable with. Thus, over the passing months he made sure to pay even closer attention to Anakin’s behavior both in missions and during training sessions, knowing that if the recent change in their relationship affected his progress he’d have to put a stop to it- regardless of his own feelings on the matter. As increasingly affectionate and tactile as his Padawan had become in the last few months, he couldn’t imagine _that_ particular conversation going over well. To his surprise, however, Anakin seemed to be performing better than he ever had.

Even the areas where Anakin had always struggled the most, he began to see marked improvement. He was calmer, more centered during meditation sessions- even if he still preferred to avoid them when he could. Perhaps strangest of all was how much smoother meetings with the council seemed to go. Granted, Obi-Wan was convinced by this point that there was nothing either of them could do that would win certain members over. But as a whole it appeared Anakin had finally learned the art of at least not taking their more unduly harsh criticisms to heart.

 

One particular mission they’d been assigned had given Obi-Wan a fair amount of anxiety since they were briefed. There was a Mid-Rim planet that served as a crucial outpost between Republic territory and Separatist-claimed space where they were tasked with keeping the local government from breaking with the Republic. The endeavor was both vital to their continued presence in the sector, and entirely dependent on their (which was to say _his_ ) negotiation skills. As an added measure of pressure, the order of decorum seemed to be particularly important to the locals.

Obi-Wan reminded his Padawan at least three times in preparation for the mission to mind all of his manners and please try not to speak unless spoken to. He’d expected Anakin to scoff at that, and by the final reminder he _was_ rolling his eyes a bit but, really, it was no secret that the boy wasn’t quite known for his ability to hold his tongue. The snap judgments and hot temper that served him so well in battle tended to be serious hindrances when it came to more diplomatic endeavors, which was exactly what Obi-Wan was worried about.

However, as on-edge as he’d been leading up to their first meeting with the planet’s Prime Minister and other high officials, Anakin was perfectly behaved throughout. He was respectfully quiet, calm even. At one point during the proceedings the Minister’s head of security made some snide remark about the Jedi’s inability to protect their interests. Even before the man finished speaking, he was fully prepared to apologize for whatever snappy response Anakin was bound to spit out. But as it turned out, he needn’t have worried; all he felt coming off of the younger man was a slight wave of tension through their bond.

When he glanced back to check, Anakin was still walking a few paces behind them being respectfully quiet- the perfect picture of a serene Padawan learner deferring to his Master’s expertise. He blinked in surprise but Anakin just smiled at him, like he just knew Obi-Wan was expecting him to say something inappropriate. He felt a little wave of guilt at that. But it wasn’t as if Obi-Wan doubted his apprentice’s aptitude for following the rules set out for him, he’d just never _seen_ that particular skill in action.

 

Obi-Wan even ventured to hope that the change in their relationship had helped with what he’d privately dubbed Anakin’s Attachment Problem. Granted, he seemed to want to spend even _more_ time with his Master than before. But it seemed that as long as Anakin was getting his way in the one area he relaxed his grip a little everywhere else- like he wasn’t quite as scared of losing Obi-Wan as he had been in the past.

Anakin’s improvement along with their impeccable mission success rate meant that even the council couldn’t find a terrible lot to complain about. With the exception, perhaps, of Master Windu who Anakin could swear still gave him a wicked side-eye at every opportunity.

It looked as if somehow, against all odds, their seemingly ill-conceived extracurricular activities were actually _helping_ Anakin’s progression toward Knighthood. Obi-Wan filed the development away as yet another thing about his Padawan that he couldn’t quite wrap his head around.

 

* * *

 

 

One evening about two months later, after returning from a particularly hazardous mission, and a particularly taxing briefing with the council, they’d finally been given permission to return to their shared quarters. Since the beginning of the undertaking they hadn’t put a name to, Obi-Wan had endeavored to remain in control at all times. Moving forward one step at a time, he refused to give his charge anything until he was desperate for it. Whether it was their most recent brush with danger or just the increased pressure they’d been under since the beginning of the war, on this particular night his patience was spent.

 

The second the door slid closed behind them he turned and pressed Anakin against it. Obi-Wan kissed him once before giving a sharp tug to his close-cropped hair, exposing the length of his neck, kissing down until he’d reached the meat of his shoulder and biting. Anakin whined, instantly melting under his touch. He reached out, clutching his mentor’s shoulders, trying to stay upright despite his suddenly unsteady legs. A deep rumbling growl tore its way out of Obi-Wan’s chest and he worked a knee between Anakin’s thighs.

Anakin responded without hesitation, widening his stance and throwing his head back to bare as much of his throat as he could. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into his Master but he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity by trying to take the lead. Anakin remembered everything he’d learned over the past few months and tried, despite his thundering pulse and trembling hands, to be patient. Obi-Wan pulled away suddenly and Anakin’s stomach dropped in disappointment before he realized he was tugging him forward, deeper into the apartment.

“Wh-”

“Bedroom,” he grunted, cutting Anakin off. He snapped his jaw shut, fluttering with anticipation; they’d never made it any further than the couch before. Obi-Wan led him into his room, which was the better choice, given that his bed was about twice the size of Anakin’s. Out of habit more than anything else, Obi-Wan shut the door behind them before pushing him toward the bed. Anakin stumbled over his own feet in his haste to comply- though, thankfully, the mattress found him before the floor did.

“This okay?” Obi-Wan asked, looming over his frame now splayed out on the bed.

“Yes, _Force yes_ more than okay,” he nodded frantically, trying to convey all of his enthusiasm through their bond. That seemed to be all Obi-Wan needed to hear, as he reached down to undo Anakin’s robes without further hesitation.

With a knee on either side, he lowered himself down to cage the younger man in beneath him. Anakin’s breath hitched when he felt Obi-Wan’s erection brush against his own. He’d always been so calm and collected that, despite the arousal he could feel through their bond, he hadn’t understood just how much he could affect his Master until that moment. Taking a chance in the heat of the moment, he reached up to undo Obi-Wan’s belt, pulling his tunic off of his shoulders when he didn’t move to stop him. Anakin ran his hands down his chest almost reverently until Obi-Wan grabbed his wrists, pinning them over his head and kissing him hungrily. He bucked up involuntarily, searching for more friction.

Obi-Wan released his wrists in order to reach down, stilling his hips. Anakin was about three seconds from throwing months of effort out the window and begging for _more_ when he felt Obi-Wan grip him through his leggings. It was good, so good, but so far from enough. He waited a few more minutes while Obi-Wan moved back to his neck and continued to palm his growing bulge, but didn’t seem to be in any hurry to move things along anymore.

“Master _please_ ,” he whined, squirming under his touch, no longer concerned with how desperate he sounded. Maddeningly, Obi-Wan sat up instead, just looking down at him with a slightly troubled frown.

“You don’t have to call me that. Not when we’re…like this.”

“Call you what? Master? But, but-” Anakin sputtered, suddenly confused and frustrated. He’d never been more aroused in his life, and that just didn’t leave a lot of leeway for higher brain function. “That’s what you are. It just wouldn’t feel right to call you anything else.” He could feel his face heating up, though he wasn’t sure how a conversation could leave him more flustered than being halfway undressed with his Master on top of him.

“Given the circumstances _Padawan_ ,” and Obi-Wan definitely didn’t miss the shiver that ran through Anakin just then, “it seems a bit of a strange time to bother with proper titles. But if you insist.” He lowered himself back down onto the form below him, kissing along his face, jaw, and neck. “Tell me if you’d like me to stop,” he said softly, fingers slipping between them to undo Anakin’s leggings.

“Sure, sure,” Anakin nodded acquiescently, knowing full well that nothing short of a full-scale separatist invasion on the Temple would’ve gotten him to stop at that point. Obi-Wan pulled back long enough to work the currently too-tight leggings down Anakin’s thighs. He left them pooled under just his knees, which stopped him from wrapping his legs around the older man’s waist the way he would’ve liked to. But when Obi-Wan wrapped a hand around his cock and there was finally, _finally_ nothing but skin-on-skin he couldn’t find it in him to complain. Anakin writhed around as much as he could, given the limited range of motion he’d been left and reached out searching for purchase wherever he could reach. He dug his fingers into his Master’s thighs, trying to hold onto enough self-control not to grip too tightly with his right.

Obi-Wan stroked him fast, with a twist of his wrist up the shaft, stopping every few strokes to run his thumb over the head. There was enough precum dribbling from tip by then to keep his strokes smooth, firm but just the right side of too much. But when Obi-Wan reached down to gently roll his balls in his free hand Anakin could feel himself getting close, too close to the edge.

“Wait, wait,” he choked out, swatting at Obi-Wan’s hands. The older man stopped immediately, and started to shift his weight off of him. Anakin stopped him, reaching out to grip his hips. “No don’t, don’t stop just I need a second.” He took a steadying breath, edging away from his climax. “Don’t wanna finish too fast.”

“How about we switch tactics a bit,” Obi-Wan suggested, smiling down at him in a way Anakin had never seen before.

“What did you have in mind?” He asked, swallowing in anticipation. In answer Obi-Wan just lifted himself off the bed and stripped off his leggings. His cock, fully hard and deep pink, sprung free and _oh_ that really wasn’t doing Anakin’s composure any favors. Thankfully, Obi-Wan still seemed to have a bit more command of his executive functions, as he had the wherewithal to finally free Anakin of the leggings that’d had him trapped. Obi-Wan took a moment to appreciate the view before holding his hand out, willing the drawer on the bedside table open. A small bottle floated across the room and into his outstretched palm.

There were a few things Anakin wanted to do in that moment: Tease Obi-Wan for inappropriate use of the Force. Ask him how much use he got out of the bottle of slick he seemed to keep on hand. But all that he managed was a breathless, “Are- are you gonna fuck me?”

“Not tonight,” he said serenely, as if he wasn’t affected at all, which Anakin might’ve believed if he didn’t feel his arousal rolling through their bond at his question. He also didn’t miss the implication in his answer.

“But in the future…?”

“We’ll see. Move up a little,” Obi-Wan commanded. Anakin complied straightaway, scrambling up the bed, giving the older man room to slot their bodies together more comfortably. He leaned over Anakin again until he could grip both of their cocks in one hand and drizzle just enough lube between them. He began stroking slowly, almost gently at first, before speeding up gradually until Anakin’s back bowed up off the bed.

“M-master I’m gonna-” he panted.

“Go ahead Padawan,” he whispered roughly, kissing along his jaw “you can come.” And he didn’t want to, not yet, but it was- quite literally- out of his hands. Anakin's entire body tensed, head thrown back in a choked-off groan, and he shot off between them, coating both their hands in his release. Obi-Wan stroked him through it until he was too sensitive and batted his hand away weakly.

Obi-Wan rocked back to make enough room to finish himself off but Anakin’s hand shot up to grip his wrist, stopping him in place. “Wait, Master can I…” he bit his lip, hoping he wasn’t pushing his luck. But they’d already made it this far. He looked up at him nervously, “Can I suck you off?”  

Obi-Wan had to tighten his grip on the base of his cock to stop from coming right then. He inhaled deeply, reaching for some semblance of composure before responding with, “Yes, of course.” Reaching up to the head of the bed, he grabbed a pillow and placed it under Anakin’s head before moving up to straddle his shoulders.

“Open,” he instructed gently, pressing the tip of his cock against the pliant lips below him. Anakin obeyed without hesitation but otherwise kept still, not craning his neck forward or trying to take any more than his Master was willing to offer. Obi-Wan fed it to him slowly, one inch at a time, until he felt the back of his throat. He let the weight of his cock just sit on his Padawan’s tongue, not forcing it in any further. Though he could tell, even without words, that Anakin wouldn’t have stopped him. Would’ve let him do anything he wanted- the amount of trust he felt in their bond was almost staggering. He ran the back of his hand over his cheek reverentially, relishing in the way Anakin’s eyelashes fluttered closed. For the first time Obi-Wan could remember, his Padawan’s Force signature was utterly at peace, content to receive whatever he was given.

Obi-Wan pulled back slowly until Anakin was suckling on just the tip, before guiding it back in. Anakin hollowed out his cheeks and drew him in, hands dancing across Obi-Wan’s thighs but not gripping, not interfering. A few strokes in and Obi-Wan sped up, building up a rhythm. Which of course was when Anakin pressed the flat of his tongue along the underside of his cock and he gave a particularly strong _suck_. Jolts of pleasure traveled up Obi-Wan’s spine and, completely caught off guard, he came down Anakin’s throat. Obi-Wan pulled free with one last little _pop_ of suction before collapsing next to him on the mattress.

Anakin looked utterly wrecked; cheeks flushed, lips swollen, and a mixture of cum and spit dribbling down his chin. He was also practically glowing with satiation in both his blissed out expression and Force signature.

“Well that definitely wasn’t the first time you’ve done that,” Obi-Wan said, reaching over to thumb Anakin’s chin clean.

“Told you,” he said, grabbing his hand before he could pull away and sucking the digit into his mouth. “I do have _some_ experience.”

  

Anakin really never did cease to surprise him.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, do most writers reach a point where they don't feel weirdly anxious every time they post some of their writing or nah?

 

After that things didn’t change between them- not much anyway. Anakin’s training continued to progress; Obi-Wan had never known the path to Jedi Knight to be a linear one but his apprentice was quickly causing him to reconsider that assumption. It seemed that every training session, every mission, Anakin’s performance improved. He’d even been more tranquil during meditation, more deferential during council briefings- as if he’d finally found his center. Consequently, their relationship wasn’t nearly as fraught as it had been in recent years, and Obi-Wan couldn’t say he missed the constant conflict. However there was one thing that didn’t concern him exactly, but definitely piqued his interest at least.

 

Obi-Wan first noticed the change when the two of them were making their way across the hangar toward another ship, another mission. He couldn’t even remember what they’d been discussing but he leaned in to ask, “What do you think, Padawan?” The question had been something innocuous, inconsequential even. The answer, however.

Anakin took no longer than two seconds to reply, but in that time Obi-Wan felt the slightest tremor travel through the Force. His breathing hadn’t faltered, heartrate barely picked up- but he’d felt it. He didn’t say anything, just waited, wondering what had caused it. Obi-Wan didn’t have to wait for long.

They were aboard the ship when Anakin turned to him from the pilot’s seat, “Master, we’re coming out of hyperspace.”

And there it was again. It was such a tiny thing he was sure that anyone not sharing their bond, no matter how Force sensitive they may be, would miss it entirely. He wasn’t even entirely sure Anakin was aware he was doing it. It did, however, leave him in an almost perpetual heightened state of awareness.

Whenever he spoke Anakin’s designation, or Anakin his- Padawan, Master- Obi-Wan would wait, senses perked, for the answering ripple. It wasn’t every time, but often enough that he felt he was always anticipating. Finally one day he realized he’d responded with one of his own, an almost imperceptible caress in the Force that he wasn’t conscious of emitting, and wondered just how long he’d been doing it without knowing. It was intimate to be sure, but there wasn’t anything sexual about the little interaction. It was more like the way their knuckles would brush against each other when they stood close in a crowded room, or how their eyes would always somehow find one another no matter the situation. It was just _familiar._

Somehow, at some point in their changing relationship, it seemed Anakin’s inclinations had become his own and he didn’t know what to make of it. Somehow, even without meaning to, he’d given Anakin exactly what he wanted yet again.

He considered asking what exactly his Padawan felt about their silent exchanges but was too afraid to disrupt their newly-found balance. It seemed to be, for the moment at least, harmless. So he held his tongue and let the unspoken thing between them stay just that.

   

* * *

 

Not long after that, the war began to pick up, stealing even more of their time. With more missions and less time in between, they were kept too busy to spend much time alone. Months went by seemingly overnight and Anakin’s twentieth nameday arrived without much fanfare. It wasn’t traditional for Jedi to celebrate such things that encouraged individual aggrandizement, but Obi-Wan had never allowed a year to pass without at least acknowledging the occasion. Generally he’d prepare a slightly-nicer-than-usual meal, or allow Anakin an evening off from training. It was never much, but Anakin had always appreciated whatever sentiment his Master was able to put forward.

 

This year, however, they’d been called away from the temple on yet another mission. So when the day came the two of them were stuck in a tent on some backwater planet, surrounded by mud and clones and not much else. Thus, opportunities for celebration were limited to just about nothing. Still though, Obi-Wan figured he could try to do _something_ to mark the day.

“Congratulations Anakin,” he said that evening, pulling him into an embrace as soon as they were safely inside the tent they were sharing.

“What for?” Anakin seemed genuinely confused, but that didn’t stop him from burying his face in Obi-Wan’s neck, soaking up the closeness. It wasn’t often that his Master was the one to initiate contact.

“It’s your twentieth nameday today, Padawan,” Obi-Wan laughed.

“Is it really? I guess we’ve been so busy I forgot all about it.” Anakin pulled back enough to look him in the eye, smiling. “Did you get me anything?”

“Why don’t you tell me what you want, and I’ll see about getting it when we get back to Coruscant.”

“I dunno, I can think of a few things you could give me out here,” he said, smirking, eyes lit up with mischief.

“Oh? And what would that be?” He asked, knowing full well what his ever-affectionate Padawan was getting at. Instead of replying, Anakin leaned in to kiss him, tipping Obi-Wan’s head back with a hand on his chin. He followed suit willingly, pulling Anakin closer with hands on his waist and nipping at his bottom lip.

“Is that all?” Obi-Wan asked when they finally parted for air. “I don’t really need a special occasion for that do I?”

“Well no,” Anakin grinned. “But all I _really_ want this year is for you not to tell me to slow down for once. I mean- unless I do something you don’t like of course,” he said earnestly.

Obi-Wan’s heart warmed at his genuine concern and almost said what he was actually thinking: that there was very little Anakin could do that he wouldn’t like. But knowing his Padawan, things could get out of hand very quickly so instead he settled on, “We’ll see,” and gripped the sides of his face to pull him into another kiss.

Spurred on, Anakin let his hands wander. They slipped over his shoulders, down his back then, before he could think better of it, cupped Obi-Wan’s ass. He pulled in then, bringing his rapidly hardening erection in contact with his Master’s and, to his eternal delight, he too was already half-hard.

Obi-Wan’s first instinct was to pull back, slow him down. But it was a special occasion and Anakin _had_ only asked for one thing. He supposed he could humor him, up to a point at least. So instead, he draped his arms over his shoulders and tilted his head, deepening the kiss. At the encouragement, Anakin smiled against his lips and started pulling him forward the few feet toward his cot. Right when Obi-Wan thought Anakin was going to sink down into the bed and pull him down on top of him, he flipped them around and pushed Obi-Wan back instead. He went willingly, propping himself up on his elbows and splaying his legs out just slightly. Grinning widely, Anakin crawled down to straddle him, one knee on either side of his hips.

Giving his shoulders a gentle shove, Anakin pushed him to lay flat on the mattress before leaning over to mouth at his neck. He bit along the line of Obi-Wan's throat until he could pull the collars of tunic open enough to expose more skin to explore.

“Careful Padawan, wouldn’t want to leave any marks that need to be explained,” he chided fondly.

“We’ll just say you got them in battle,” Anakin shrugged.

“Somehow I doubt battle droids are prone to leaving those kinds of marks.”

“You’re no fun,” he laughed, kissing along his collarbones.

“Well you’ve always known that much. I’m sure there are much more exciting partners you could’ve chosen,” he said, running his fingers up Anakin’s sides.

“Hmm maybe, but no one as pretty as you Master.”

“Oh I’m pretty, am I?”

“Mhm, the prettiest,” he confirmed, nosing along Obi-Wan’s jawline, nipping at his earlobe. Obi-Wan just shook his head, smiling, unsure of how to respond to the assessment. He knew he was attractive, but he never would’ve described himself as _pretty_.

Before he’d realized what Anakin was doing, he’d already undone Obi-Wan’s belt and was working his tunic open. He didn’t know if he should be annoyed or impressed; his movements were much smoother than when they’d first begun. It seemed Anakin was a quick student in more than just matters of the Force.

Anakin kissed him for another long moment, running his hands over his exposed torso, thumbing over his nipples until Obi-Wan’s back involuntarily arched. He could _feel_ Anakin’s smug grin against his skin; grabbing his shoulders, Obi-Wan pushed his apprentice back until he was sitting up with his mouth out of reach. Anakin frowned, opening his mouth to complain, but then Obi-Wan went for his belt, undoing the ties keeping his tunic shut. Anakin smiled then, quickly pulling his arms free, tossing the fabric away from the bed and out of sight.

When Anakin went to lean back down Obi-Wan stopped him with a hand to his chest, instead bringing his knees up for the younger man to lean back against his thighs. Obi-Wan sat up to meet him and Anakin wrapped his legs around his waist, locking the two of them in place. Winding his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck, Anakin pulled him into another kiss.

“Hnngh,” he moaned when Obi-Wan quirked his hips up, grinding his still-clothed cock against the cleft of Anakin’s ass. Anakin pulled away for air, resting his forehead on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, breathing hard.

“Master, please tell me you aren’t gonna stop this time?” He whined pitifully, face still downturned.

“Anakin…” he said hesitantly, gripping the boy’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and tipping his face back enough to look him in the eye.

“Please, Master? I really am ready. And, with the war and all, who knows when we’ll get another chance,” he said imploringly, eyes wide, pupils dilated.

“I don’t know…I don’t want to rush anything,” Obi-Wan said, but he could feel his self-control waning.

“Rush anything? Master, it’s been months! If I was with anyone else we’d have been fucking for ages already.”

“ _Anakin!_ ” he admonished half-heartedly, unable to suppress a light chuckle. “I’m not anyone else though. I- I care about you,” he could feel the heat rising up his neck, unused to expressing his emotions so openly.

“I appreciate that,” Anakin’s face broke into a fond smile. “But I’m ready. Do you feel any conflict, any hesitation from me?” He asked, holding one of his Master’s hands between his own. Anakin’s shields were down, their bond as open as it’d ever been, and Obi-Wan reached out, feeling. He was right; there was nothing there but trust, affection, and maybe a hint of frustration at being made to slow down yet again.

“Alright Anakin, okay,” Obi-Wan nodded. Anakin surged forward, pushing him back town onto the mattress with a rough kiss- though he swore the elation travelling through their bond would’ve almost been enough to knock him back all on its own.

“I mean—you want to too, right Master?” Anakin asked soberly, pushing far enough up on his elbows to meet his mentor's gaze.

“I do, Anakin,” he reassured him, feeling a wave of affection overtake him at Anakin’s sincerity.

“Good,” he kissed him again, hands trailing down to cup Obi-Wan over his leggings. His erection had flagged somewhat while they’d been talking, but was quick to return to full hardness. Anakin squeezed him through the fabric and Obi-Wan’s hips jerked up of their own accord, gasping into their locked lips. Anakin pulled away long enough to free himself from his last bits of clothing, before a darkened look overtook his expression.

“What is it?” Obi-Wan sat up worriedly, wondering at the sudden change in mood.

“I- I don’t have anything to use for lubrication,” he said, sounding rather heartbroken.

“Oh is that all?” Obi-Wan stood and walked the few feet over to his bags he’d deposited on the unused bed earlier, rifling through the small medical bag he’d stocked at the beginning of their journey.

“You brought lube?” Anakin asked incredulously.

“Well…no not exactly,” he admitted, turning around to face the younger man, a small packet in hand.

“Bacta, really?” He blinked at Obi-Wan skeptically.

“Works in a pinch,” he shrugged, moving to sit back on the bed next to him.

“Wait-” Anakin stopped him with a hand on his hip. “Strip,” he smiled devilishly, obviously enjoying the rare occasion to give his Master orders. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes but complied, tossing the packet onto the bed before ridding himself of his leggings and underwear, leaving him naked for Anakin’s enthusiastic scrutiny. The younger man’s eyes darkened for an entirely different reason then as he pulled Obi-Wan down on the bed, kissing and touching every inch of skin within reach.

Obi-Wan’s hands trailed down his abdomen then over the tops of his thighs, skipping his weeping erection. He repeated the teasing action once, twice, before wrapping his hand around him in a barely-there grip, running his thumb over the tip.

“So you’re gonna- gonna fuck me right?” Anakin panted, his brain suddenly struggling to remember how to form words in Basic.

“If that’s what you want,” Obi-Wan breathed, almost in disbelief himself.

“Please yes Master I want- I want everything,” he was babbling at this point, hands seeking out any skin they could find.

“Don’t worry, my Padawan,” he said, feeling Anakin shiver from his words as much as his touch. “I’ll take care of you.”

Without being asked, Anakin automatically opened his legs wide, pulling his knees up to give his Master an unimpeded view. Obi-Wan’s cock jumped at the sight; he could hardly remember a time his student had ever been so compliant. He reached for the packet he’d thrown so carelessly on the bed and tore it open, coating two fingers in the gel.

“Remember to tell me if you want to stop,” Obi-Wan said gently, fingertip slowly circling Anakin’s puckered little hole.

“I will,” he agreed readily, wanting desperately for his Master to move things along. Free hand holding Anakin’s thigh steady, Obi-Wan pushed the first finger in, working it up to the last knuckle in one slow, continuous motion. He waited for a moment then, feeling along their bond for any hint of discomfort. When he found none he began to move, loosening him until Anakin pleaded in a small cracked voice, “More please.”

Obi-Wan pulled out and took care to recoat his first two fingers before slowly, carefully pushing them inside. Anakin relaxed a fraction after a moment and Obi-Wan curved his fingers, feeling along the smooth walls. The younger man’s back arched off the bed, hands gripping frantically at the bedsheets.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he said soothingly, twisting his wrist, scissoring his fingers.

“Fuck me now Master,” Anakin keened, trying to get enough leverage to push his hips down on Obi-Wan’s fingers.

“Not yet, let me make sure you’re ready.” He was speeding up then, working his fingers in and out at a bruising pace.

“I’m ready, I promise,” he whined mindlessly.

“Shh,” Obi-Wan repeated, adding a third finger. Ignoring his Padawan’s pleading for him to hurry, he repeated the process until Anakin’s hole was stretched and easily accepting his intrusion.

“Now you’re ready,” he said, pulling his fingers free. “Turn over.” He nudged at Anakin’s hip.

“Wait, I- can I ride you?” The way he said it, lust-dark eyes looking up at him through his lashes, sent another wave of heat to Obi-Wan’s groin.

“It’d probably be more comfortable on your hands and knees,” he warned him.

“I know but…I want to see your face. Can I?”

“If that’s what you want, of course.” Obi-Wan captured his already-swollen lips in a kiss and flipped them over so Anakin was on top. “You’re in control- go as slow as you need,” he said, running a thumb over his bottom lip. With a mischievous glint in his eye, Anakin bit the tip of Obi-Wan’s thumb and gripped the base of his cock.

Obi-Wan groaned as Anakin lined him up with his tight hole and pressed down. The younger man frowned, biting his lip in concentration as he struggled to fit the flared head past that first clenching ring of muscle.

“Relax Anakin,” he said softly, running his palms over Anakin’s thighs encouragingly. Obi-Wan wondered for a brief second if he’d ever done this before, ever made it this far with another man. But then Anakin was nodding, taking a deep breath and willing his body to relax. They both let out broken cut-off moans when he finally worked his way down, body slowly swallowing his Master’s cock.

Save for his hands, Obi-Wan lay perfectly still, resisting the urge to thrust up until Anakin had enveloped him completely. But he wouldn’t hurt him, not for anything. So he waited until Anakin was completely seated and breathing hard, acclimatizing to the new and overwhelming feeling of fullness. Then he moved, and there was nothing between them but white-hot pleasure and an overpowering affection that might’ve felt a little too close to something he wasn’t ready to name- but, thankfully, neither of them felt the need to just yet.

“G-good?” Obi-Wan asked, even though he could feel the answer through their bond- he still needed to hear the verbal confirmation.

“Yes, yes it’s just a- a lot,” he nodded, pushing all the way down and grinding his hips in a circle. Obi-Wan felt his cock stirring up Anakin’s insides and he gripped the younger man’s thighs in an attempt to keep some semblance of control. He lost it for a second, thrusting up just once before forcing himself back down, determined to let Anakin set the pace.

Throwing his head back and exposing the length of his throat, Anakin let out a muffled groan, biting his lip to suppress the sound. With both hands on Obi-Wan’s hips to steady himself, he bounced up and down in his lap, gasping as each down stroke hit him in just the right spot. Obi-Wan wrapped one hand around Anakin’s cock where it’d been bobbing between them, and worked it in time with the rhythm his apprentice had built up. Anakin’s mouth fell open in a silent scream, his hole clenching around his Master’s prick. He was so, _so_ close. Obi-Wan drove his hips up and, on a whim, reached out and tugged Anakin’s Padawan braid back, hard.

He gasped, “Master o-ohh!” And just like that Anakin came with a hoarse little cry, coating his chest and stomach.

Obi-Wan didn’t give him any time to catch his breath, gripping the junction between Anakin’s hips and thighs, and roughly plunging into him. It didn’t take much, a few more thrusts and he was following him over the edge, filling him completely.

 

Afterwards they’d collapsed halfway on top of each other as there wasn’t enough room for two of them to lay side by side on the little cot. Between the planet’s humid atmosphere and the sweat they’d worked up, the air inside the tent was sticky and their skin stuck together wherever they touched. The uncomfortable environment didn’t seem to do anything to deter Anakin from his usual post-orgasmic clinginess though. He’d thrown one arm over Obi-Wan’s middle, tangled their legs together, and rested his cheek on his sweat-slicked chest.

“Thank you,” Anakin said, breath coming out hot against Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“It was no great hardship I assure you,” he chuckled, fingers dancing along Anakin’s spine. The younger man just hummed in response, burying himself in closer.

A few minutes spent coming down passed in silence, the two of them just listening to the steadying of their heartbeats. When Obi-Wan was halfway convinced that the other man had fallen asleep, Anakin spoke up again.

“Can I ask you something, Master?”

“Of course,” he replied automatically, wondering where this conversation could possibly be headed.

“When do Padawan learners typically become eligible to take the trials?” He’d propped himself up on an elbow and was chewing his lip, eyes not quite meeting the other man’s.

“Well it varies from person to person. I myself wasn’t Knighted until I was twenty-five. But you’ve progressed much faster than I ever did,” Obi-Wan smiled; he’d been expecting this line of questioning for some time- had been trying not to dread it. “That coupled with the war increasing the need for talented Knights, I’m sure it won’t be long before I recommend your taking the trials to the council.”

“Oh…oh good,” Anakin returned the smile but it was tight, uneasy. Obi-Wan reached out through their bond, trying to parse out what it was his Padawan wasn’t telling him, but his shields were suddenly up in full force. This was a reaction he hadn’t anticipated; his apprentice had always been so impatient, so insistent that he not be held back from his full potential, he couldn’t imagine a scenario in which Anakin wasn’t eager to step into his new role. It wasn’t as if he’d never struggled with insecurity, but that didn’t seem to carry over into his skills as a Jedi.

Obi-Wan, unsure sure how to respond to the sudden change in mood, said nothing. He instead reached down to run his palms up Anakin’s back before burying them in his hair. Anakin had always responded well to physical contact even when nothing his Master could think to say seemed to comfort him.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the mission was…messier than Obi-Wan would’ve preferred. Granted, it was war- Force or no, things were never completely predictable. Still though, up to that point they’d fought the Separatists into a corner; victory seemed imminent. And they _did_ come out on top in the end, but the fight there was a lot steeper uphill than he’d expected. Especially for his unusually inept Padawan.

Obi-Wan wondered if he wasn’t being overly critical, but it seemed like Anakin made every possible mistake he could. He was aggressive when he needed to be patient, gave ground when he should’ve pressed on. And to top it off he was just so horribly _distracted_. His saber skills, which were usually so tightly-controlled, were sloppy and slow. Obi-Wan deflected more than a few would-be fatal blaster shots away from him before one finally got through, hitting Anakin square in the shoulder, rendering him next to useless for the tail end of the battle.

He didn’t want to think it, but Obi-Wan suspected that maybe their ongoing whatever-it-was, was the cause of his Padawan’s poor performance. On the trip back to Coruscant, after patching Anakin’s wound, he cleared his throat, determined to set things straight one way or another.

“Anakin…I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t exactly performing to the best of your abilities today,” he started gently.

“I _know_ Master- I don’t need a lecture right now,” he groaned dramatically.

“I’m not lecturing you I was just wondering if perhaps our…relationship” he stumbled over his words, still not sure exactly to call whatever they’d been doing. “Hasn’t been a distraction.”

“Wh- no! I’ve been doing well up till now haven’t I?” Anakin demanded, voice cracking.

“Well, yes you-”

“So I make _one_ mistake and you’re gonna push me away just like that?”

“Anakin, if you’d just calm down-”

“If you’re going to well…just get it over with,” he huffed, crossing his arms defensively.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan snapped, patience wearing thin. Force, he could be so difficult to talk to sometimes. “I’m not- I just want to know what was on your mind today, why you couldn’t seem to focus?”

“I don’t- I’m just…tired, Master. The war and everything it’s draining. I’m sorry.” He seemed so exhausted then, all the fight having gone out of him.

“It’s alright Anakin, I just don’t want-- I mean you can’t afford to make mistakes like that in battle,” he said softly, placing a hand on his uninjured shoulder.

“I know. With all the energy you spent protecting me I’m surprised you weren’t the one who got blasted,” Anakin flushed guiltily.

“Well, I’m alright, you’re alright. We should have a little bit of time to rest up at the Temple before they send us back out there.” Obi-Wan rubbed a hand up Anakin’s arm in a way he hoped was reassuring. “You do know that you can talk to me if the war, or anything, gets to be too much, right?”

“Yeah- yeah of course Master,” he smiled weakly. Obi-Wan prodded gently through their bond but Anakin’s shields were sealed tight. He looked beseechingly at Anakin for another long moment, willing away the uneasy feeling in his gut.

 

Obi-Wan had hoped Anakin’s less-than-stellar performance on the last mission would be an isolated event but it quickly became clear that he was mistaken. It seemed that all the progress Anakin had made in recent months had somehow been undone. He wasn’t sure what had changed, what switch had been flipped in his Padawan, but _something_ was obviously affecting Anakin's abilities. He was distant and distracted on the best of days, angry and impatient on the worst.

Obi-Wan could admit that teaching Anakin the finer skills needed to be a Jedi- meditation, negotiation- had always been somewhat of a struggle, but now he seemed insecure even in the areas he’d always excelled. His forms were clumsy, control of the Force too aggressive, and worse still, any time Obi-Wan tried to bring up his recent difficulties he’d get defensive and moody, or simply change the subject. Not for the first time- but definitely the first time in a long while, he found himself completely at a loss as to how to help his Padawan.

If Obi-Wan were being brutally honest with himself, he suspected the best course of action would be to simplify their relationship, to go back to what they were before they became…whatever they were now. And yet, to top off all of his recent strange behavior, Anakin seemed to have been clinging even tighter to him than he ever had.

Anakin had always been unusually tactile for a Padawan but now, even when they weren’t alone, he hovered especially close, brushing hands or shoulders. And when they _were_ alone Obi-Wan swore he was just about insatiable. It wasn’t even sexual half the time, but rather almost desperate- like every day they spent together could be their last. Which, given that they were in the middle of a war, was technically true. But still, Anakin kissed and touched and clung so much it seemed there was rarely ever more than a few inches between them. He’d even taken to spending most nights sleeping in Obi-Wan’s bed. He wasn’t sure when the habit started. One night Anakin just didn’t leave after they finished, and he looked so vulnerable- naked and post-sex-sleepy- Obi-Wan didn’t have the heart to ask him to.

Just like he didn’t have the heart to break off  their whatever-it-was when Anakin looked at him like he thought he might evaporate into the Force at any moment. But it was clear something had to be done; if Anakin kept making initiate mistakes like he’d been doing, he was bound to get himself killed.

 

Obi-Wan had been gearing up to attempt yet another breaching of the touchy subject when the battle to reclaim the planet Muunilinst, as battles tend to do, went sideways faster than anyone had expected and required their immediate attention. As a major financial hub, the future of the Republic relied on the planet’s continued financial stability. Thus, their personal lives were once again pushed aside in the interest of the greater good. 

Anakin, with his superior piloting skills, was ordered to protect the planet from above, while Obi-Wan joined the ground forces. Anakin, who was never a fan of any mission that separated the two of them, scowled when their orders came in. He hadn’t said anything but Obi-Wan could feel the hesitation and frustration coming off of him in waves as they made their way to the hangar where they’d part ways.

“Anakin, you’re getting closer to taking the trials every day. This could be an important opportunity to prove to the council that you’re ready to be tested for Knighthood,” Obi-Wan reminded him as they approached their respective ships.

“But Master, what if I’m not there to watch your back and-”

“I’ve been fighting battles since before you came to the Temple, Padawan- and I’ve survived all this time by the will of the Force. Focus on your task; don’t worry about me.”

“Yes Master,” he grumbled reluctantly, tugging at his braid. They’d reached the point where their paths separated and Anakin clearly had more he wanted to say, to do. They both knew, however, that it wasn’t the time nor place. Instead he just looked at his Master imploringly for a long moment.

“May the Force be with you, Padawan,” he said finally, knowing they’d drawn out their time together as long as they could.

“And you Master. Be- be careful?”

“I will,” he nodded. “I’ll see you soon,” Obi-Wan reached out and squeezed his arm before turning toward his own ship, trying, yet again, to ignore the sick feeling that’d been building in the pit of his stomach.

 

The battle was, _technically_ speaking, a success. Steep losses aside, Obi-Wan’s efforts on the ground had ultimately cleared the planet of Separatist forces. Anakin’s performance, however, was another story.

On the surface of Muunilist, Obi-Wan stood among the wreckage exhausted, furious, and terrified. The battle was over but Anakin was still missing. His ever-defiant Padawan had disobeyed a direct order for the umpteenth time and pursued a mysterious ship he swore was piloted by a powerful Force user away from the rest of his squadron to who-knew-where. Obi-Wan tried to create some sense of order in the post-battle chaos, ignoring the anxiety that grew with every passing minute without word from his apprentice.

Finally, _finally_ a comm came in, warning of an approaching ship with a description matching that of the one Anakin had pursued. He’d ordered his troops not to fire as he waited, stomach in knots, for the ship to make its landing. The ramp lowered and Anakin emerged- looking scuffed up and a touch more hard-edged than Obi-Wan could ever remember seeing him, but otherwise no worse for the wear. He didn’t know whether to scream at the boy till he lost his voice or hold him close until the end of the war.

Obi-Wan stomped his way across the field to meet Anakin, still not entirely sure what his own reaction would be. When Anakin’s eyes met his he stopped, caught between duty and desire. “What in the hells was that, Anakin?” Was all that he seemed to be able to get out at the moment, hand frozen in air between them like it couldn’t decide what part of him it wanted to obey.

“I- I’m sorry Master. I should’ve listened. It was a trap, a Sith, some woman-” he rambled, eyes darting from Obi-Wan’s face to his still outstretched hand.

“A _Sith_?” Obi-Wan repeated, stomach dropping at that, the memory of his own Master’s murderer flashing behind his eyes. Fear gave way to a rush of anger at how much worse Anakin’s penchant for rushing headlong into danger could’ve gone this time. “What do you-”

Of course at that exact moment they received yet another galaxy-shattering comm informing them that some unknown “droid general” had made himself known, decimating a number of their forces. And yet again, their private concerns would have to wait for another day.

 

 

When they arrived at Coruscant, Obi-Wan convened with the council and some of the other Knights who weren’t away on missions. Upon learning how many of their own had been lost in battle he came to a decision, one he’d been considering for months. 

 

It was a few hours later when he commed Anakin, requesting his presence in the council chambers. A heavy sigh came through the speaker before a reluctant sounding “Yes Master, I’ll be there shortly.” Obi-Wan frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose; did Anakin have to pick _today_ of all days to be difficult?

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure where Anakin had been when he summoned him but it sure took long enough for him to arrive. He waited impatiently outside the council chambers until, finally, Anakin’s dark-clad figure came into view. He was walking slower than usual, hunched over at the shoulders and Obi-Wan worried for half a second that he’d sustained an injury that’d been somehow overlooked. But no, he realized as his student came closer, Anakin’s face was pulled into a tight frown; he was just sulking.

“Took your time didn’t you?” Obi-Wan asked testily as he made his way down the corridor.

“Forgive me Master,” he replied, just as irritably. “I wasn’t exactly in the mood to be reprimanded by the council yet again.”

“Repri—? Anakin you aren’t in trouble. Not at the moment anyway.”

“Then why _am_ I here?” Anakin asked, still wary.

“Just come inside,” Obi-Wan moved aside to usher him through the doors into the council chamber. He gave his mentor a skeptical look, but dutifully followed him in.

Taking a look around the room, Anakin blinked in surprise; this was the first time he could remember seeing all of the council members in one place since the start of the war. Obi-Wan may have _said_ he wasn’t in trouble, but that didn’t stop the bad feeling currently prickling under his skin. The council members waited until Obi-Wan had closed the door behind them and was standing by his side before speaking. Anakin bit his lip, resisting the urge to tell them to just kriffing spit it out already.

“Padawan Skywalker,” Master Yoda spoke, breaking the room’s tense silence. “After careful deliberation, and the _repeated_ suggestion of your Master,” he said sharply, throwing a split-second glare in Obi-Wan’s direction. “Decided the time has come to promote you to Jedi Knight, we have.” 

Time stopped. Anakin’s stomach tightened, the blood draining from his face. Obi-Wan was looking at him expectantly; they all were. He swallowed, ran his fingers over his Padawan braid the way he had a thousand times over the years. The braid they now wanted to cut off.

“I- I-” he swallowed again. “Please excuse me Masters.” He bowed before turning and fleeing the room. The council chambers were dead quiet in the wake of his sudden departure.  

“I’m so sorry about that I don’t-” Obi-Wan flushed, unsure of what to say- unsure, really, of what had just happened. “I’d better go talk to him.” He waited another moment until he was dismissed before hurrying after his endlessly-baffling apprentice.

 

Obi-Wan found him in their quarters, sitting on the couch with a datapad in his hands, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. He started when Obi-Wan slid the door open, as if he were surprised to see him there. Obi-Wan sat next to him, leaving a comfortable amount of space between them like he had when Anakin was a child and something had upset him.

“What happened back there, Padawan?” He asked after a moment.

“ _Padawan_ ,” Anakin repeated under his breath before continuing, louder. “I’m sorry Master…I just— it caught me off guard I guess. Don’t I have to take the trials before becoming a Knight?”

“Traditionally, yes. But considering the circumstances- the ongoing war, your considerable talent- I recommended you be promoted right away.”

“You did?” He asked, looking utterly, incomprehensibly, anguished.

“I don’t understand. I thought this was what you wanted. You’ve been telling me for years that you were ready for the trials.”

“But…but are _you_ sure I’m ready?”

“I wouldn’t have recommended your promotion to the council if I didn’t have complete faith in your abilities.” He couldn’t understand where this sudden streak of insecurity was coming from; Anakin had always been so self-assured when it came to his skills as a Knight.

“But what about the last few weeks, the last two missions? I defied direct orders; I made so many mistakes- you said so yourself!”

“Yes well…” Obi-Wan paused then, considering the previous weeks. “You haven’t been…sabotaging yourself have you? Purposefully not performing to the best of your abilities?” 

“What? No! I wouldn’t do that,” Anakin retorted immediately. And Obi-Wan couldn’t feel any dishonesty, nor malicious intent through their bond but there was _something_. Some hint of hesitation that made Anakin’s heart beat just a little faster. 

“Anakin…I don’t know what’s wrong with you lately but it has to stop. Do I honestly need to remind you that we’re in the middle of a galactic war? We’re losing Knights and clones alike every day; we need every Jedi we can get-”

“You think I don’t know that?” He snapped. “I’ve been in the battles Master; I’ve seen our losses.”

“Is that what you’re afraid of? Our troops relying on you to lead them?” He asked, trying to understand.

“No I’ve led squadrons I’m- I’m not afraid,” he stammered, and there _that_ was a lie. Obi-Wan could feel the fear coming off of his apprentice as strongly as if it were his own.

“Anakin it’s normal to feel fear in war.”

“I’m not afraid of the war Master,” he insisted, more vehemently this time, his growing frustration eroding all other emotions in their bond.  

“Well _what_ then?” Obi-Wan seethed, patience finally worn thin. “I just spent an hour convincing the council that you were ready for Knighthood and then you just walked out on them. So, please, tell me what the problem is Anakin. Because it seems to me that you’re being exceedingly selfish.”

“I- I’m-” he sputtered, face turning redder by the second. “I didn’t know I was that much of a burden for you,” he spat bitterly, standing up and turning away from the couch.

“Burden- what are you talking about?” Obi-Wan asked, once again absolutely perplexed.

“Just forget it!” Anakin shouted, storming out of the apartment before the other man could get another word in.

Obi-Wan didn’t move for a good five minutes after, just sitting on the couch blinking in silent confusion. Somehow, what he was sure would’ve been the happiest day in Anakin’s life turned into a fight worse than they’d had in at least a year and he honestly had no idea what had happened.

 

Anakin still hadn’t returned several hours later, and by the time the sun had started to set, Obi-Wan was starting to really worry. He was considering comming him when the front door slid open. Anakin padded in, closing the door softly behind him like he was trying to make amends for making such a scene earlier. Obi-Wan rose from the chair he’d been sitting in, ready to apologize for losing his temper if nothing else. But before he could say anything, Anakin spoke in a rush.

“I’m sorry Master. I was…well it doesn’t matter. There isn’t any excuse for my behavior.  I didn’t mean to cause anyone any trouble. If you still think I’m ready, I’d be honored to accept the promotion to Knighthood. If the council agrees, I mean,” he said contritely, looking down at his feet.

“I’m sure they will; I’ll speak with them tomorrow,” Obi-Wan said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Anakin,  I don’t know what you’ve been so worried about but you’ve proven yourself more than ready for Knighthood.”

“You’re- you’re right Master. Thank you.” Anakin nodded, but somehow still seemed irreparably unhappy. He tugged at his braid for a moment before speaking again, hesitantly. “I want you to know I really wasn’t messing up on purpose- or, or at least I don’t think I was.” Despite being a good deal taller than Obi-Wan, Anakin seemed so small and unsure in that moment.

“It’s alright,” Obi-Wan said softly. “I believe you.”

Anakin nodded, still looking troubled. “I’m gonna go to bed now, okay?” He didn’t wait for Obi-Wan’s answer before shuffling off down the hall, favoring his own room rather than his Master’s for the first time in weeks.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan had been right of course. Whether because of the sheer need for fully-fledged Jedi given their heavy losses during the war, or Anakin’s impressive record before his recent debacles, the council was still ready to offer him a promotion to Knighthood.

The two of them met with the council so they could officially set his Knighting ceremony for the subsequent evening. But when Obi-Wan reached across their bond, expecting to find nothing but pride from the soon-to-be-Jedi, he sensed only turmoil. Anakin bowed graciously in front of the council, thanked them for their wisdom, said nothing to suggest he was conflicted about his upcoming ascension. And yet—

“Is there something the matter Pada- Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked as they emerged from the council chambers.

“No, Master. I’m to be Knighted tomorrow; it’s everything I’ve been working for since I was a child. I’m honored,” he smiled but it was obvious to Obi-Wan that there was nothing behind it. He only held eye contact for a fleeting moment before dropping his gaze to the floor.

“Are you-”

“If you’ll excuse me Master, tomorrow is such an important day, I think I’d benefit from some solitary meditation.” While his voice was level, his Force signature was anything but- churning in agitation and dread even through the shields he’d erected.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan dismissed him, unsure of what else to do when he clearly wasn’t willing to discuss whatever it was that was troubling him. Did he still not feel that he was ready for Knighthood? Was he worried that Obi-Wan was pushing him toward something he was unprepared for? It was too late to ask; Anakin had already disappeared down the halls of the temple.

 

They didn’t see each other again until the following afternoon when they gathered with the council for Anakin’s Knighting ceremony. Obi-Wan had hoped to speak to him the night before, or even in the morning but he hadn’t returned to their apartment until after he’d fallen asleep, and by the time he woke Anakin was gone again. Obi-Wan wondered if the younger man had even returned at all, or if he’d spent the night elsewhere. He tried not to let the thought bother him too much. 

Obi-Wan was dressed in his most formal robes, hair carefully styled, beard neatly trimmed. But his eyes were bloodshot and dark underneath, his skin pale from a night with too little sleep and too much worrying. If anyone on the council noticed his appearance, they didn’t mention it. Obi-Wan didn’t know how to feel about the Knighting ceremony taking place in the council’s chamber. It was tradition but Anakin had always hated the room; he could probably count the number of actual positive encounters they’d had there on one hand.

Anakin arrived exactly on time and, like his soon-to-be-former Master, he was dressed impeccably but looked exhausted. Obi-Wan still wasn’t sure whether he’d come back to their apartment the night before, but he did know that wherever Anakin had been he certainly hadn’t slept much.

“Good afternoon Anakin,” he said as the younger man approached.

“Masters,” Anakin bowed, addressing Obi-Wan and the council as one. He wasn’t sure why, but that stung as much as anything else.

The ceremony was short and unexpectedly bitter. Of all the years Anakin spent under his tutelage, he’d spent the last few complaining about not being allowed to take the trials. Whenever Obi-Wan had pictured this day, he’d imagined the boy to be bursting with confidence and pride. Now that it had finally arrived, he felt nothing from him. With Anakin’s shields up at full strength, there was no emotion at all passing between them and his face was just as impassive. Coming from the young man he thought he’d grown to know so well, it was more than a little unsettling.

The final step brought Obi-Wan in front of his student, small vibroblade in hand; once he severed Anakin’s Padawan braid he would officially be a Jedi Knight. Facing him now, Obi-Wan found himself swallowing a lump in his throat. He was happy for Anakin, and proud- he _was_. But, running his fingers over the unbroken braid one last time he couldn’t help but remember everything it represented. All the times he’d caught Anakin not-so-stealthily admiring it, how he’d reacted when Obi-Wan tugged on it. Anakin wasn’t looking at him- had hardly acknowledged him since the ceremony began. But when _that_ thought passed through his mind Obi-Wan felt a shudder from him, the briefest flash of eye contact, before Anakin took a deep breath and steeled himself again.

One hand on the handle of the little blade, the other holding the braid steady, Obi-Wan spoke just loud enough to be heard in the dead silent room, “By the right of the council, by the will of the Force I dub thee, Anakin Skywalker, Jedi, Knight of the Republic.” The blade sliced through it like nothing and Anakin still wasn’t looking at him. When Anakin made no move to do so, Obi-Wan caught the braid before it could fall to the floor.

“Thank you…Obi-Wan,” he said, stepping back. “Masters,” he bowed to the council again and stood rigidly still until he was dismissed.

 

Traditionally, a newly Knighted Jedi would take their braid with them at the end of their ceremony, but Anakin didn’t seem interested in his. With a brief second’s glance at the slender plait, Obi-Wan silently tucked it into the folds of his robe.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to the people who commented and kudos'd- I'm still getting used to actually letting other humans read my writing so it means a lot !

 

 

As worried as Obi-Wan was before and during the ceremony, he was comforted by the thought that there would be time afterwards to sort through whatever it was that had Anakin so upset. They shared an apartment after all- it wasn’t as if Anakin could avoid him forever. And indeed, he did return to their quarters that evening, looking, if possible, even more exhausted than he had earlier.

Obi-Wan, who had been sitting on the couch trying to read through the information he’d been given about his next mission but mostly just waiting for Anakin’s arrival, rose to meet him as soon as he stepped through the door. Wide-eyed and frozen in place, the younger man looked strangely surprised to see him. A dozen different scenarios warred in Obi-Wan’s mind then. He wanted to take him in his arms, wanted to shake him and demand to know what was wrong, wanted to apologize for whatever it was that he’d done. Instead Obi-Wan just stood there, jaw clenched stubbornly shut.

“Anakin, you’re back,” was all he managed after a few long seconds of tense silence.

“Uh, yeah. Evening, Obi-Wan,” he replied, voice as wooden as it’d been that afternoon. And how strange his name sounded coming from his longtime Padawan.

“How was the rest of your day?” Why he was bothering with pointless small talk when there were important things to be discussed, Obi-Wan couldn’t say.

“Not nearly as exciting as being Knighted,” Anakin said in a monotone, moving past him to make his way into the kitchen.

“Well it is a once in a lifetime event,” Obi-Wan agreed hesitantly, unsure of whether Anakin was being sarcastic or not. The new Knight responded only with a noncommittal grunt before disappearing into the other room.

“Do you have anything scheduled for tomorrow?” Obi-Wan asked, following after him. He felt bizarrely out of his depth; he'd never before had to seek out Anakin’s company, and didn’t know how to ask for it. Instead he kept talking in the hopes that the younger man would somehow pick up on his desire to initiate contact without him having to actually make a move to do so.

“I do; the council has requested to see me in the morning, probably to give me my first assignment as a Knight,” Anakin said distractedly, pulling out leftovers from two nights earlier and setting them on the counter.

“Oh that’s- congratulations,” the response sounded strange in Obi-Wan’s mouth but he felt the need to say _something_.

“Mhm,” Anakin hummed, eating the food cold straight out of the container.

“You’ll probably want to get to bed early then I suppose?”

“Yeah, it’s been a long day,” he nodded, shoveling another bite into his mouth.

“Alright, I guess I’ll leave you to it then. Goodnight Anakin.”

“Night Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan trudged down the hall to the bedroom Anakin had shared with him so often lately feeling out of sorts and utterly defeated.

 

They didn’t see each other for a long time after that, each busy on missions that never seemed to intersect, and rarely at the Temple at the same time. Though it was entirely possible, Obi-Wan mused, that if they _had_ been he might not know if the other man didn’t seek him out. He returned from one particular series of long drawn-out negotiations to find the apartment darkened and half-empty. It wasn’t that he’d been expecting to find Anakin there- he hadn’t seen him once in over three months after all- but a hurried search through the rest of the rooms confirmed all of the younger man's things were gone.

A quick check with the temple’s database confirmed what he suspected; Anakin had changed apartments. It was expected, of course, for former Padawan to move into their own apartments after being Knighted. Somehow though, he’d expected Anakin to at least inform him when he did. There was nothing though, no message sent, no note left, just an empty room.

Obi-Wan had spent the vast majority of his life sleeping alone and it had never particularly bothered him. So when he turned out the light that evening, he breathed deep and tried very hard not to dwell on the hollow feeling that seemed to have taken residence in the apartment in Anakin’s place.

 

* * *

 

After months without seeing the younger man, Obi-Wan started to wonder if he wasn’t being paranoid in suspecting Anakin of avoiding him deliberately. Eventually though, they were reunited when the council assigned the two of them their first task together since Anakin’s Knighting. When he received the assignment Obi-Wan silently vowed to himself to get to the bottom of whatever it was that had driven the two of them apart, no matter how awkward the encounter might prove to be.

 

They were set to meet in the hangar in the morning, confirming what Obi-Wan had long suspected: that he and Anakin _had_ both been at the Temple at the same time and he’d just avoided him. He couldn’t let that bother him now though; this might be the only chance he had to fix the rift between them and going in with a negative mindset wasn’t going to help.

Obi-Wan felt unusually awkward in his own skin waiting for Anakin outside their ship that morning. He bounced on the balls of his feet, gnawed on his fingernails in a way he hadn’t done since he was a Padawan, and checked his comm unit a half-dozen times. It only took ten or so minutes before he saw the younger man emerge in the doorway of the hangar, but Obi-Wan swore it felt like hours. He took a deep breath and resisted the urge to run up to greet him, instead holding his ground until he approached.

“Anakin, it’s good to see you,” he smiled, trying to transmit as much warmth as he could through their weakened bond. And it really was. The younger man looked lightyears better than he had the last time he’d seen him. Tired, to be sure, war had that effect on just about everyone. But strong, poised in a way he hadn’t been before.

“You too Ma-- uh, Obi-Wan,” he stumbled through the sentence with pink cheeks and little more than fleeting eye contact, though he didn't sound bitter in the way he had the last time they'd spoken. Obi-Wan reached out through the Force, trying to find some hint of the connection they’d shared for so long, but Anakin's shields were sealed as tight as they'd been all those months ago. Obi-Wan's smile faltered then but he tried to stay positive: they had the whole mission ahead of them, plenty of time to fix whatever it was he had broken between them.

Unable to find any comfort through words or in their bond, he pulled his former Padawan into a hug instead. Anakin froze and the spike of surprise that jolted through him in that moment was strong enough to seep through his shields. Obi-Wan went to pull away then, ready to push down the sting of rejection and keep going. At the last second though Anakin returned the embrace and, to Obi-Wan’s relief, it was genuine, if a little stilted.

The journey itself was mostly quiet and definitely more tense than it would’ve been before- but still not nearly as uncomfortable as Obi-Wan had feared. When he’d passed Anakin on the way out of the cockpit he’d even reached out and squeezed his shoulder, the kind of easy contact Anakin would’ve been the one to initiate in the past. And, while the bond between them was still shielded on Anakin’s side, the younger Knight also didn’t push him off or cringe away from the touch. Overall, Obi-Wan counted it as a tentative win.

He just had to somehow figure out what grievous mistake he’d made and bridge the rest of the gap before they parted ways again for Force knew how long. And, of course, successfully complete their mission as well.

 

The assignment turned out to be deceptively easy, not nearly as dangerous or difficult as the council had made it out to be in their briefing. They were tasked with investigating an illegal smuggling ring on some tiny Mid-Rim planet that was apparently funneling weaponry and supplies to Separatist forces in Republic territory. Important, no doubt but it certainly hadn’t called for his legendary skills as a negotiator, nor Anakin’s formidable strength in the Force.

They’d arrived before dawn broke on the little planet, booking two rooms at a local inn and had sorted the situation out by the end of the day. The tip had turned up false, the criminals in question little more than mid-level spice dealers, and the two of them had ended up parting ways late in the afternoon. Obi-Wan wondered as he made his way back to his room, if this wasn’t a ruse- a setup the council designed to return his and Anakin’s working relationship to its previous state. They _did_ work together better than just about any other Jedi in the Order. Still, the idea was almost ridiculous enough to make him laugh out loud in the empty corridor.

Shedding his outer robe, Obi-Wan took a few minutes to breathe and unwind, to steel himself before undertaking a trial that was sure to be far more challenging than their mission had been. When he was sure he’d stalled more than enough, he took a deep breath, got to his feet and crossed the hall to his former Padawan’s door. He knocked firmly before stepping back a few paces, pretending the space was for Anakin’s benefit rather than his own. He could almost swear that every second he spent standing in the desolate hallway was at least as nerve-wracking as any negotiation he’d found himself at the helm of. Then, finally, the door slid open to reveal Anakin, hair mussed and blinking blearily at him- the room behind him completely dark.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Obi-Wan asked, feeling like a complete idiot, though he wasn’t quite sure why as it was still rather early in the evening.

“No, no it’s okay. Did you need something Mas— Obi-Wan?” He was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, squinting at the hall lights. Obi-Wan found that it took a distressing amount of self-control on his part not to usher the younger man back into his room and tuck him in. 

“I was just wondering if you were hungry? They have a kitchen here, should be open for another few hours.” He’d never known Anakin to turn down a meal but for some reason he felt exceedingly nervous waiting for his answer.

“I uh…” Anakin blinked, smacking his sleep-dry lips together. “Yeah that sounds good just, give me a second, okay?”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan nodded, trying not to appear too eager.

Anakin turned and slid the door shut behind him, and Obi-Wan rocked back on his heels patiently waiting. There were a number of shuffling sounds, a loud clatter, followed by what he was reasonably sure was a grumbled “ _Sith hells_ ” before Anakin reemerged, hair (somewhat) less unruly and in clean, unwrinkled robes. 

“Ready?” Obi-Wan asked, more for something to say than anything else. Anakin nodded, closing the door behind him before following after his former Master. Though he couldn’t think of anything to fill the silence right away, Obi-Wan walked close, brushing shoulders and knuckles with Anakin as they made their way down the wide hallway. To his utter disappointment, barring a hint of surprise, Obi-Wan still couldn’t feel anything through their bond. Though, like on the trip over from Coruscant, Anakin didn’t seem to make an effort to put any distance between them either. As before, Obi-Wan still wasn’t sure what to make of it.  

 

They filled their plates and chose seats in the small mostly-empty dining hall in relative silence. Obi-Wan swore he couldn’t remember a time in the last twelve years since they’d met when things had been as tense with his former student. He still couldn’t feel any outright hostility or anger coming off of the younger man though so, a few bites into their awkward shared meal, he cleared his throat.

“How have your first few months as a Knight been going?” He asked, cutting through the silence.

“Good,” Anakin said, taking a long swallow from his water glass. “I think the council’s been testing me: nothing they’ve assigned me to so far has been especially challenging.”

“Good, that’s great. I knew you’d be an excellent Jedi,” Obi-Wan smiled across the table before faltering, worrying that his response might be misinterpreted as gloating. “I mean- the assignments are bound to get more difficult as you go on. But you know how unpredictable things can be in war.” He could feel the heat in his face rising and wished he could extricate himself from the situation entirely.

But then- “I know, I know but you were right.” He grinned and Obi-Wan’s heart ached in the sweet way it hadn’t in months, the way it only ever seemed to around Anakin. “The increased responsibility, I mean It’s been one step at a time, but honestly it’s refreshing. I needed it. And I…I wanted to thank you.”

“What for?” Obi-Wan asked, genuinely taken aback.

“Well…everything I suppose. Recommending me for Knighthood for one- I know they wouldn’t have granted it to me otherwise.”

“I just- I mean you deserved it.”

“Only because you taught me so well,” Anakin said, tapping his foot against Obi-Wan’s ankle under the table, looking up at him shyly through lowered lashes.

“I’ve missed you.” Obi-Wan said in a rush before he could think better of it.

“I- I’ve missed you too,” the younger man blinked, a stunned smile slowly spreading across his face, his cheeks as pink as Obi-Wan was sure his own must’ve been.

 

The rest of their meal went smoother than Obi-Wan had dared to hope, the two of them laughing over successes and mishaps since their last meeting, bonding over their shared challenges as Jedi Knights in a war they’d rather not be a part of. Obi-Wan smiled more than he could remember having done in months and, to his amazement, Anakin seemed to be enjoying his company just as much.

As they made their way back to the elevator that would take them to their separate rooms, Obi-Wan stepped in close, bumping their shoulders together. With a nearly imperceptible smirk, Anakin did the same, giggling like a youngling. They stepped into the elevator and, in a gesture that felt oddly significant, Obi-Wan hooked his little finger around Anakin’s. They stayed like that until the elevator doors opened with a _ding_ and Anakin pulled away, stepping into the safe space of the empty hallway.

Obi-Wan followed him, moving slowly down the quiet corridor until they reached their respective doors, the few feet separating the two sides of the hallway seeming parsecs apart.

“Well it was good to-” Anakin began.

“Do you want to come in for a minute?” Obi-Wan said at the same time, flushing when he realized he’d been rejected before he began. But then, before he could correct his mistake-

“Yes! I- I mean sure, for a little while,” Anakin said diffidently, stealing glances at him like they hadn’t seen each other naked, hadn’t made love- like it was all new.

“Great,” he smiled at the younger man, turning to type in the key code. If a fresh start was what Anakin needed, he was more than happy to provide.

The door slid open to a sky-dark room and Obi-Wan felt along the wall for a moment before locating the control panel, sliding the lights up to medium brightness. Logically he knew that Anakin’s room had to have been as empty as his own- that it wasn’t a _home_ , it was meant to look this way. And yet he felt a sudden surge of self-consciousness as if, simply by laying eyes on the neat, bare little room, Anakin would know how lonely Obi-Wan had been without him, how much he’d craved his company in the last few months.

Obi-Wan turned, expecting to find the younger man still lingering by the door, only to come face-to-face with the blue eyes, full lips he’d grown so accustomed to, and missed so dearly. They stood closer than it seemed they’d been in ages and Obi-Wan felt as if his heart was trying to crawl its way out of his mouth. He swallowed, trying to suppress a sudden rush of uncharacteristic nervousness. Never, not even when this thing between them first began, had he ever felt so fumbling, so awkward around his former apprentice.

Obi-Wan reached out gingerly and placed his hand against Anakin’s cheek with trembling fingers, still fully expecting him to jerk away from the touch despite their proximity. He was so surprised when the younger man leaned into it, he almost pulled his hand away in shock. Anakin’s piercing gaze held him in place though, almost daring him to ruin the fragile measure of peace he was allowing.

Obi-Wan still wasn’t sure what exactly he’d done to drive the other man away so completely but he had no intention of repeating it, whatever it was. He knew Anakin had always wished for him to be more demonstrative, though it was rare for him to actually voice his need for affection outright. He may not have known what the final straw had been, but this was at least one thing Obi-Wan could fix.

Encouraged by the lack of rejection, Obi-Wan stepped in close, bringing his free hand up to cup the other side of Anakin’s face. Anakin tilted his head down, expecting a kiss. Instead, his former Master just pressed their foreheads together gently, running his fingers through his hair, the golden curls finally growing out of the close-cropped Padawan cut. Obi-Wan breathed in deep, closing his eyes and just _feeling_. He wanted to make the most of every sensation; just having the bright beacon that was Anakin’s Force signature around him again was almost overwhelming after so long without it. But he could sense the new Knight’s rising impatience and was determined to give him everything he needed. This night, Anakin wouldn’t have to ask for anything. It was, after all, Obi-Wan’s turn to prove how much he wanted, needed, him- not the other way around.

Slipping his fingers down to grip at the nape of Anakin’s neck, he pulled him into a kiss like they hadn’t shared in months. Not since his Knighting, not since everything. A deep groan rumbled in Anakin’s chest and he drank him in desperately, like a man dying of thirst. Obi-Wan pulled away just far enough to hike the younger man’s legs up and slip arms under his thighs. Anakin had been taller than him for quite a few years, but using just the slightest bit of help from the Force- that Anakin definitely would’ve hassled him about in any other situation- he was able to hoist him up and walk him back to the bed.

With Anakin’s legs wrapped around his waist, his arms around his neck he felt warmer than he had in months. Crouched over him on the bed, he slipped hesitant hands under the younger man’s tunic and felt soft trembling beneath his fingers, wondered if it was him or Anakin. He pulled away for air, then kissed him again, slower, lighter.

“Tell me what you want,” Obi-Wan whispered against his lips. He needed so badly not to make another mistake, not to do whatever it was that’d upset Anakin so much before.

He knew, had been told by others, that he wasn’t the most attentive partner. Whether the product of his Jedi training or just his own personal shortcomings, Obi-Wan was perfectly aware of his failings when it came to intimacy. It wouldn’t be that way this time though; he’d offer everything he knew how to give without worrying about how desperate he might sound. Obi-Wan rested his forehead against the younger man’s shoulder, speaking just loud enough to be heard. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Perhaps in other circumstances, or with another lover, Anakin would’ve suspected those words of being teasing, torturing even. But here, now he knew they were meant to be taken as they were spoken- sincerely. “Just…touch me, let me touch you. It’s been,” he took a deep breath, willing his voice not to come out quite so kriffing _needy_. “It’s been so long, you know?”

“It has,” Obi-Wan agreed, bringing their mouths together before Anakin could say anything else. For all of his substantial gifts as a negotiator, Obi-Wan had never been very skilled when it came to expressing his feelings through words. He instead did his best to communicate his affection, his longing through touch- which was what Anakin seemed to need anyway.

Obi-Wan kissed the corners of his mouth, along his jawline, down his neck, all the while working at the ties holding his tunic closed. When he’d gotten it open and started mouthing down his chest he moved to push his leggings down but Anakin stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“W-wait,” he said breathily.

“Sorry, too fast?” Obi-Wan asked apologetically, lifting his face to look into his eyes.

“No, no just- I don’t want to be the only one undressed,” Anakin said, pink-cheeked but smiling.

“Oh, of course,” Obi-Wan kissed his skin again before sitting up. Without hesitating he undressed completely- boots, leggings, tunic, underwear all thrown haphazardly on the floor. He turned back to find Anakin looking at him in obvious surprise. “We can go as slow as you want,” he said reassuringly.

“When have I ever wanted to go slow?” Anakin laughed, gripping his shoulders and pulling him back down into a messy kiss. “I’ve just never seen you so enthusiastic.”

“I’m always enthusiastic with you,” Obi-Wan argued between kisses. “Just maybe not always good at showing it.”

Anakin didn’t seem to know what to say to that beyond “Oh” but that was alright because Obi-Wan didn’t need reassurance, not now. He kissed him again, trying to communicate as much, and pushed the open tunic off Anakin’s shoulders.

Anakin could do little more than hold on as Obi-Wan ran his hands up and down his newly-exposed torso, bit at his collarbones, thumbed over his nipples, and left lovebites in his wake. This time when he moved to free Anakin of his leggings, he lifted his hips obligingly. Obi-Wan sat up just enough to pull them down and off of him completely, leaving him in just his underwear.

“Take those too,” Anakin ordered before he could lean back in. Obi-Wan grinned wolfishly and hurried to obey. He had a hand on Anakin's cock before his underwear hit the floor. Stroking the younger man’s shaft just the way he knew Anakin liked, he moved down to suck the head into his mouth, tonguing over the tip.

If he weren’t so impossibly aroused, Anakin might’ve been choked up; of all the times they’d been together, he had never felt quite so taken care of. Obi-Wan bobbed his head up and down, hollowing his cheeks out and taking him as deep as he could. One hand covered what his mouth couldn’t, the other gently palmed his sac.

At some point, he wasn’t sure when, Anakin’s shields had dropped. This was important for two reasons: one, Obi-Wan felt closer to him than he had since before his Knighting, and two, he was able to feel when he was getting a little too close to climaxing. He worked him right up to the edge before pulling away, waiting for him to relax just enough, before continuing.

When he was sure Anakin was a few seconds from begging for more, Obi-Wan nuzzled at his hip, kissing along the line of the bone. “Turn over Darling,” he whispered, lips hovering just over his skin. Anakin disguised the full-body quiver that his words had triggered by complying. He was unused to such a tender term of endearment from his former Master, and found himself instantly craving more. He didn’t have time to think on it for long though, as at that moment it was impossible to focus on anything beyond the sensation of Obi-Wan’s hands digging into the muscle of his ass.

Obi-Wan massaged him until he felt the muscles under his hands begin to relax and then leaned in to kiss down his spine. He started between Anakin’s shoulder blades then worked his way down, down, pausing to nose at the dimples at the small of his back. Just when Anakin thought he was finished he spread him apart, one cheek in each palm, and swiped the flat of his tongue over his hole. Every muscle that’d gone lax tensed up in that moment as Anakin yelped in surprise, arching back into Obi-Wan’s mouth. The hands still holding him in place were the only things stopping tailbone from meeting nose.

“Did you not like that?” He asked gently, trying to let him to know it was alright if he didn’t.

“N-no I, I liked it. It just surprised me,” Anakin panted self-consciously. After all this time he  _still_ felt inexperienced.

Obi-Wan didn’t seem bothered though, just kissed the base of his spine again. “I’ll continue then, yeah?”

“Ye-” Anakin’s reply was cut off by a long gasp as he did just that. It was nothing like anything he would’ve imagined- hot, wet, and shockingly intimate. No one had ever touched him quite like that and he wondered, briefly, how experienced his former Master was exactly. He banished the thought before it could take root though; it didn’t matter who he’d been with before he was _here_ now.

As if Obi-Wan could sense his wandering thoughts, he licked in deeper, spearing the tip of his tongue into his newly relaxed opening. Anakin could hear his own breathing, whining, but couldn’t do anything to quiet himself. The feel of it all- his tongue, his hands still kneading his muscles, his beard gently scratching his skin- was overwhelming in the best way.  When he pulled back Anakin couldn’t decide if he should feel relieved or beg him not to stop. Before he could make up his mind though, Obi-Wan’s finger replaced his tongue and he wasn’t thinking about much of anything then.

“O-oh,” Anakin groaned, letting his forehead drop onto his arms.

“Still good?” Obi-Wan asked, crooking the finger inside of him.

“Good, very good,” he smiled even though he knew the other man couldn’t see his face.

After another minute he pulled out completely. Anakin looked back to see what the problem was but Obi-Wan was just slicking up his fingers with a bottle he must’ve summoned while Anakin was distracted. He laughed, thought about teasing his former Master; he’d been inappropriately using the Force an awful lot lately. But then there were two fingers pressing into him and all that he managed was another breathy drawn-out moan.

Obi-Wan worked his fingers in to the last knuckle, pulled out halfway and back in, made a scissoring motion until Anakin was loose, and then added a third. “Do you-”

“Yes, yes I want you to fuck me,” Anakin nodded, impatiently pushing his hips back.

“Okay,” Obi-Wan pulled his fingers free and kissed Anakin’s back again before coating his cock from root to tip in a generous dollop of lubricant.

For half a second Obi-Wan considered turning him over on his back to be as close as possible, to see his face. But then Anakin buried his face in his elbows, bowed his back so prettily- emphasizing the curve of his ass, and breathed a barely audible “ _Please”_ and that settled that.

Slicked up and stretched out, Anakin was more than ready and, as much as Obi-Wan wanted the moment to last, he didn’t want to keep him waiting, not tonight. He spared one last moment to run his palm reverentially down the arch of his spine, over the swell of his ass, before lining himself up. With one hand on the base of his cock, and the other spreading Anakin open, he pressed in at an agonizingly slow pace until the head breached the first ring of muscle. It took more than a fair amount of his self-control not to thrust his hips forward, not to force his way as far as he could go. But the last thing he wanted to do at this point was hurt the man below him. Especially not after they’d gone so long apart, but then—

“M-more, now,” Anakin panted, still face-down in the crook of his arms. Gripping his hips, Obi-Wan pushed in further- still slowly, still carefully but with more focus than before. When he’d worked his way up to the hilt, pelvis pressed flush against Anakin’s ass, he stilled, giving him time to adjust. But before Obi-Wan could move, Anakin rocked forward until he was only halfway in and then back again- hard. The surprise of it alone was enough to leave him seeing stars; Anakin had always been so pliant in the past, letting him take the lead. This was…new- but definitely not unappreciated.

Obi-Wan reached out, looking for purchase in the form of Anakin’s Padawan braid, but of course found it gone. He missed it so much in that moment it was almost a physical ache but he covered the slip-up with a firm grip on the back of Anakin’s hair instead. He pulled back, exposing the length of his throat, watching him swallow.

“ _Master_ ,” he breathed, arching his spine and forcing his hips back further. Obi-Wan released his hold on Anakin’s hair to grip his hips, giving him the leverage he needed to fuck him harder. Finally getting what he’d wanted, Anakin groaned. Obi-Wan had always gone so slow in the past, treated him so gently. He appreciated all the affection he was given but _this_ satisfied a craving he didn’t even know he had. They’d been apart so long, and the tip of Obi-Wan’s cock found his prostate over and over, he knew even without a hand on him, he wasn’t going to last long.

 A few more thrusts and Obi-Wan could feel his release building. But he couldn’t, not yet- not until he took care of Anakin. He leaned over until his chest was pressed against Anakin’s back, “Come for me, Padawan,” he growled into his ear.

A needy whine worked its way out of Anakin’s throat and he did, spilling himself all over the bedspread below him. Obi-Wan finished not two minutes after, cock buried deep in his ass. He all but collapsed on the bed next to Anakin, pulling him down and away from the mess they’d left.

 

* * *

 

“I’m not,” Anakin said, as soon as his breathing evened out enough for him to speak.

“Not what?”

“Not your—not _a_ Padawan.” His voice was suddenly as cold and closed off as it’d been the last time they spoke, before the months of separation.

“I know that,” Obi-Wan said, watching the rise and fall of Anakin’s chest, still slick with sweat. “I suppose it was just habit,” he tried to sound properly contrite, searching for any anger in the other man’s expression, and not finding it. “You’re a fully-fledged Jedi Knight now. I know that- I respect that.” His words didn’t seem to have any effect on whatever was upsetting Anakin. No positive effect at least: if anything, the younger man’s Force signature only seemed to grow more frantic the more he spoke. He bit his tongue to stop any more words from escaping; they clearly weren’t helping the situation.

“Thank you for that,” Anakin’s voice was remarkably steady given the turmoil Obi-Wan could feel emanating from him. Anakin started to pull away from him, sitting up to collect his discarded robes.

Desperate to fix whatever mistake he’d just made, Obi-Wan blurted out, “Why don’t you stay for the night?”

“Really?” Anakin sounded surprised, but Obi-Wan could feel traces of hopefulness seeping through their bond.

“Unless you have somewhere to be, I’d- I’d like it if you stayed,” he said, opening his arms and hoping Anakin didn’t suspect him of feeling any pity for his former student. To his eternal relief, he didn’t seem to want- or have the energy- to analyze Obi-Wan’s motives. Instead, he let out a breath and all of the pressure in the room seemed to go with it. He silently wrapped himself back around Obi-Wan’s form, pulling the discarded sheet over them.

“Thank you Master,” he said after they’d settled, kissing the side of his neck. Obi-Wan smartly didn’t correct him on his unnecessary use of the title he seemed so fond of, focusing instead on running his fingers through Anakin’s hair. It really had grown so much in the months since his Knighting.

 

Anakin nestled in on his side with his back against Obi-Wan’s front, draping his former Master’s arm over his middle; he’d always preferred it that way, despite his greater height. As Anakin’s breathing deepened and the tension surrounding him dissipated into the Force, Obi-Wan contemplated the younger man’s behavior.  Being a Jedi, and one known as The Negotiator at that, had its perks- but it also had its drawbacks. People often assumed he was able to simply pluck their thoughts out of the Force as easily as if they’d spoken them out loud. Reality, however, wasn’t quite so simple. Even when they were at their closest, Anakin in particular had always confounded him.

Obi-Wan stayed awake into the darkest hours of the morning, watching the streetlights play across his face and thinking. About the last few hours, about the last few years- about how much their relationship and Anakin himself had changed since they’d first met. It seemed, even now that something in Anakin felt the need to be _owned_ more than he needed to be respected, needed a guarantee more than a possibility. And that- that had to change.

 As sleep finally came for him, Obi-Wan felt a conclusion forming in his mind.

 

* * *

 

The sunlight coming in through the blinds fell across Anakin’s face in streaks, illuminating his golden hair and making him look younger than he had since the beginning of the war. He woke slowly, first stretching his limbs and then letting his eyelashes flutter open. He turned to look at Obi-Wan and his surprise at being held through the night was so palpable through their bond it almost made Obi-Wan physically cringe in guilt. Anakin, being half asleep and utterly at ease, was oblivious to his former Master’s internal conflict.

“Morning Master,” he said with a lazy smile, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Obi-Wan didn’t say anything, just pulled him in tighter, kissing him long and deep- morning breath and all. He took another minute to appreciate the weight of the other man in his arms before pulling away and rising from the bed. “I have something to show you Anakin,” he said seriously.

Anakin stiffened, sitting up and pulling the blankets tighter around himself protectively. “Okay,” he nodded, all the earlier ease suddenly sucked out of the room. Obi-Wan fetched his bag from the corner where he’d thrown it the night before. Possession was forbidden but even Jedi had a few belongings. He reached in, his hand immediately going to the inside pocket hidden underneath his robes and produced a small box.  It was plain and unassuming, dark reddish wood with no adornments of any kind. He looked at it for a long moment before holding it out to Anakin.

“A present?” He asked, taking it from Obi-Wan’s outstretched hand.

“Not exactly- just open it,” Obi-Wan said, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed. Anakin raised an eyebrow at him before sliding the box open with more than a touch of hesitation. He gasped. “Is…is this?”

“Yes, it’s yours.” Inside, coiled around itself, was a thin golden-brown braid held together with different colored beads.

“You kept it?” He breathed almost reverently. Obi-Wan plucked box out of his hands and stared down at it tenderly for a long moment before carefully placing it on the nightstand.

“Anakin, you’re a Knight now- in some ways a better Jedi than I’ll ever be- and I’m immensely proud of you. But you’ll always be my student and…I know we haven’t seen as much of each other what with the war. That doesn’t mean that you’ve suddenly become less important to me and I’m sorry if I…I’m sorry I didn’t communicate that better, earlier- or at all, really.” Obi-Wan could feel his face heating up and wished he’d maybe planned this speech out a little better.

“But- but what if you take on another apprentice?” Anakin demanded, cutting through his mess of an apology. He sounded so desperate Obi-Wan almost smiled; this, at least, was one fear he could assuage.

“After how exhausting you were? I think not- at least not for some time.” He laughed and then reached out to grasp Anakin’s closest hand, his human one, and made sure to catch his eye before continuing more seriously. “And even if I someday do, no one will replace you.”

“You promise?” Anakin's voice was barely above a whisper. A tear stubbornly fought its way down his cheek. Obi-Wan hadn’t seen him so openly vulnerable in years.

“Oh Anakin, you do know I don’t need a title- an _obligation_ to be with you, right?” He ran the knuckles of his free hand along the line of his former student’s cheekbone.

“Well I…” the soft skin under his hand heated up and Anakin’s wide blue eyes darted around the room, anywhere to avoid meeting Obi-Wan’s gaze. “I guess maybe I- maybe I thought you pushed the council into Knighting me so you wouldn’t have to deal with my…me.”

“No- I am so sorry I didn’t…” Obi-Wan started, then stopped. This wasn’t about him, wasn’t about his guilt- there would be time enough to sort through that later. “I recommended you for Knighthood because you deserved it, because you are one of the most gifted Jedi I’ve ever encountered. And…” he breathed, steeling himself for whatever the other man’s reaction might be. “And because I didn’t want to continue as we were. You are my equal. Our titles should reflect that- our relationship should reflect that.”

“Really, I- you really mean that?” He asked, blinking at him, his fingers nervously playing with the hair behind his ear where his braid used to be.

“Of course,” he said, putting every ounce of conviction he had into those two words. Obi-Wan suddenly found himself flat on his back as Anakin launched himself across the bed, throwing his arms around his neck. He kissed him so hard their teeth clacked together and Obi-Wan was sure there’d be bruises on his lips. But he could feel Anakin’s relief, his affection flowing unimpeded through their bond and he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. When they finally pulled apart they were both breathing hard and laughing. Obi-Wan wiped at the tear tracks still staining his cheeks.

“You really do…care about me, don’t you Master?” The hesitant way he spoke betrayed the insecurity he’d always tried so hard to suppress, as well as the words Obi-Wan was sure he actually wanted to speak- the question he really wanted to ask.

“I really do, _Padawan_.” He teased affectionately, pulling him down into another kiss, partly to hide his second of hesitation. He’d yet to say the words out loud; that roundabout admission alone had spiked his pulse- the little voice in the back of his head incessantly reminding him ‘ _the Code, the Code what about the Code?_ ’. Obi-Wan knew though, with as much conviction as he’d ever known anything, how he felt about Anakin- even if he wasn’t quite ready to admit it out loud.  

And as for the rest? They had time to figure it out. He had time to learn how to express his feelings. Anakin had time to learn how to accept them.

 

There would be time enough for both of them to learn.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the original idea I had was what if Anakin, with his abandonment issues, was nervous about getting promoted to Knight because then Obi-Wan wouldn't be obligated to spend time with him anymore so he started subconsciously making really obvious mistakes. It was going to be a little drabble thing but I just kept adding to it so here we are


End file.
